Legacy
by KeriPeardon
Summary: Princess Amichen has been a disappointment since she was born. The first of Link and Zelda's descendants to be born human, she's hopeless at swordplay and dismissed because she's quiet and unassertive. But when the world seems to catch fire, Amichen finds herself bearing the brunt of the calamity. Will she wilt or will she finally prove herself worthy of Link and Zelda's legacy?
1. An Arranged Marriage

_Author's Note: This story is a spinoff from my original story, "The Legend of Zelda: The Circle of Destiny," which you can find here on It is set in the world which I created in that original story, several hundred years after Link and Zelda's rule, and it follows their descendant, Amichen. This story doesn't actually feature Link and Zelda, but rather it is a tale of what happens in the world in between their appearances. I strongly suggest that you read the original story first because this one will make more sense in light of it._

* * *

"At least you have a pretty figure," the queen said as she watched her eldest daughter being dressed. Or maybe it was more like being manhandled. Amichen was holding her long silk robes closed at the top while her lady's maids were jerking on the cord of the corselet that wound around her middle. The silk corselet was reinforced with glue-stiffened canvas, giving it some rigidity, and it was fashionable to cinch it as tightly as possible to give the wearer a defined waist.

But Amichen already had a very defined waist. In fact, she was as tall and curvy as her ancestress, the first queen of the Tiger Dynasty, Anne-Marie. Pulling her corselet tight was merely a formality; it did little to enhance her already-perfect figure.

Unfortunately, that was the _only_ thing Amichen had going in her favor. Otherwise, she was something of a disgrace to the family—as her mother pointed out all too frequently. She was the first human child born into the Tiger Dynasty and people were still not quite sure what to do with her.

Even her eyes weren't blue. Everyone had anxiously watched her eyes after she was born, only to be disappointed when the muddy grayish color grew darker, finally settling into a brown so dark, they were nearly black.

The queen reportedly declared her no better than one of the peasant children and promptly set about trying to make a replacement.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the next princess was born Hylian and her eyes were the proper shade of blue from the very first day. Tiger-Lin even had the appropriate attitude; she grew up fierce and assertive while Amichen was quiet and meek. Amichen was so awful at swordplay and archery, she had been excused to study exclusively very early on—which suited her perfectly; she much preferred staying inside and reading than going out in the sun and getting hot and sweaty.

But she still watched her little sister's exercises in the courtyard with some wistfulness, wondering why she had been fated to be such a disappointment.

It had come to no surprise to anyone when the queen announced the succession would go through her younger daughter. Amichen had quietly accepted that she would spend her life closeted out of sight in the castle, a spinster with her nose stuck in her books. Perhaps her sister would use her as a Counselor.

So Amichen had been rather shocked to learn that one of the younger princes of Hyrule was on his way to Shi-Ha to take her as a bride. For the first time in her life, people were making a fuss over her. She had been bathed and scrubbed until it felt like she had no more skin left. Then her long, straight black hair had been combed and oiled until it was as glossy and smooth as an obsidian mirror. Now, she was being dressed in the finest silk robes, lavishly embroidered with bright colors and gold thread.

They put her most formal crown on her head last and carefully adjusted it. It had a wide band of gold that ran across her forehead and strings of gold beads and pearls that crisscrossed over the top of her head in an intricate pattern. There were more strings that dangled down in front of her ears, while in the back, the woven pattern was repeated in loops of beads that hung halfway down her back. On top of Amichen's jet-black hair, the crown looked very rich indeed.

The maids finished their work and stepped back, lowering their heads in a bow—leaving Amichen alone under her mother's fierce gaze.

The queen looked at her for a moment, then rose from her chair and strode across the room.

"You have assets," she said, smacking Amichen's hand away and pulling her robes apart so that the top of her bosom could be seen. "Let's let the prince see what he's buying." She bent down and pulled the bottom part of the robes farther apart so that there was a gap high enough to show Amichen's thighs.

Amichen's face burned with shame. "I'm not a prostitute, Mother," she said, uncharacteristically defensive.

The queen took Amichen by the chin and forced her head up into the proud bearing that she and Tiger-Lin wore so easily. "No, you are a princess of the Tiger Dynasty and _my_ daughter. And your task is to help us renew our alliance with Hyrule. It has been several generations since our families last intermarried, and if this goes on much longer, I'm going to think they've washed their hands of us. We are, after all, rather poor relations; they'd much rather marry their Erenrue cousins."

Amichen was surprised to hear her mother admit any fault or weakness in Shi-Ha. "Why would they see us as poor relations?" she asked.

Her mother snorted. "Wait until you're in Hyrule; then you'll see."

There was a brief, hurried knock on the door, then one of the Counselors stuck his head in without being invited. Such was Amichen's status at court: no one cared if they walked in on her naked. Her feelings didn't enter into consideration at all.

"Your Majesty, the prince and his ambassadors have arrived in the city," he announced. "They're making their way here."

"I'm on my way," she said, striding towards the door. "Keep Amichen out of sight until I signal for her. I think she will make more of an impression if she comes in after he does."

The Counselor bowed low. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Amichen was unceremoniously shuffled off to a side corridor to wait in the dim interior light for her cue. Then she would be paraded around before the prince just as the stableboys paraded horses in front of the queen. And just like the queen, it would be up to the prince to decide whether to accept or reject her. Yet again, her feelings didn't enter into the equation.

She stepped closer to the door, eavesdropping, as she heard the muffled voice of the herald announce the arrival of Prince Naissus and the Hyrule delegation.

"Aunt!" someone—presumably Naissus—said, greeting the queen. Amichen worried nervously if this was a good thing or not. It was customary for all the royal families to refer to each other as cousins or aunts and uncles—even if they weren't actually closely related—so it could be a good sign that he acknowledged their kinship, even if it had grown rather distant. On the other hand, Amichen couldn't imagine anyone greeting her mother with anything less than absolute respect, bordering on fear and worship, so she wasn't sure how her mother would react to such a familiar greeting.

She listened tensely, unable to hear the words being spoken, but then there was a woman's laugh, and she was pretty sure it was her mother laughing—although the sound was rather foreign to her ears—and she breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently the queen had received his greeting well enough.

After a few more minutes of what sounded like typical pleasantries, she heard her mother's voice more clearly. "Let me introduce you to my daughter."

That was her cue.

The Counselor quickly pulled open the door and Amichen walked in, trying to carry her head high—despite the fact that she could feel a rather cool draft around her legs. She had to trust that she wasn't revealing too much when she walked—although she was careful to walk slowly across the hall and take moderate steps instead of the long strides characteristic of the rest of the royal family.

Even as she was worrying about her dress, she was scanning the faces in the crowd, worrying that the prince would be old or ugly or—worst of all—scowling with dislike when he saw her.

Her eyes finally lit on a young man—not too many years older than herself—who was standing a little in front of the rest of the delegation. He was about her height, slender-built, and had messy sandy-blond hair that nearly obscured the small crown that he was wearing. His face was fair and rather starkly white—not the yellowy-tan complexion that everyone else in Shi-Ha had—and he had bright blue eyes of a kind that no doubt made her mother envious.

He wasn't old and he wasn't ugly—he was, in fact, rather handsome—but she couldn't gauge his facial expression. He was silent and looked rather stunned, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. She hoped that her mother had told him that she was human so that wasn't a huge disappointment to him. But if she already had the marriage arranged and the deal sealed, she might have "forgotten" to let him know that little fact in advance.

Amichen stopped in front of him nervously and inclined her head politely. "Cousin," she said, deciding to be familiar with him since he had already been familiar with her mother.

He continued to stare at her for a moment, then he bowed and held his hand out.

She put her hand in his. Or, rather, she put her sleeve in his hand. Formal robes at court had sleeves that were much longer than the hand. They were both a status symbol—in being completely impractical—and they kept the nobility from accidentally bonding with someone undesirable, like a servant . . . not that Amichen had to worry about that. As a human, she could never bond with anyone.

She felt the prince grasp her hand through the sleeve—it was a firm grasp, not the weak, barely-touching hold that was common at court—and he bent down to kiss the back of her hand. She could feel the press of his lips through the sleeve—yet another strange feeling, since the kiss at court was symbolic only and no one ever actually touched their lips to the sleeve.

She rather liked it—the feeling of being touched.

He looked up at her. "I am loathe to call us cousins," he said, "because that implies I must somehow be related to such an exotic beauty, and I know that could never be the case."

Amichen didn't know what he was talking about. She actually turned around to see if her sister had come into the room behind her. But there was no one there—not even the Counselor.

"About whom are you speaking, sir?" she asked, turning back to him.

He looked at her for a moment, stunned, then he laughed. "I'm talking about you!"

"Me?" she said in utter disbelief.

The prince turned to the queen, who was seated on her imposing golden throne carved with tigers. "Is such beauty so commonplace in your kingdom that it goes without notice?" he asked her.

"Amichen has always been modest about her looks—and she _is_ quite attractive," the queen said, "but it's true that she is not prettier than her sister. Tiger-Lin is the beauty in the family."

Amichen looked down. Even now—even when she was meeting her fiancé for the first time—she couldn't escape the knowledge that her sister was still the best in the family.

She heard her mother clear her throat in a rather telling way. She glanced up and saw her mother looking at her sternly. Then she lifted her chin.

Amichen took the hint and reluctantly lifted her head. She noticed Prince Naissus was looking at her with something amounting to pity. She couldn't stand to see that look in his eyes, so she cast her gaze upwards, above his head, and stared at nothing.

"Well, I'm sure both of your daughters are very lovely," Naissus said politely. "I would expect nothing less from a woman of your beauty."

The queen laughed—and it almost sounded genuine. "You are a charming thing. I think you will make a good son-in-law."

He bowed to her a little. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

She rose from her throne and gestured to him. "Come, let us make the final arrangements."

Amichen glanced at Naissus and was pleased to see that he looked as horrified by that thought as she did.

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but I wasn't under the impression that we would be finalizing anything so quickly."

The queen looked surprised. "Does she displease you?" she asked, gesturing to Amichen.

"Not to look at her, no."

"Well, then, if you don't find her lacking, then why not settle things now? You can rest from your journey while the wedding preparations are being made. In fact, some have already begun," she hinted.

Amichen knew what her mother was doing: she was trying to back the prince into a corner and make him feel that he had no choice but to marry her daughter.

But the prince wasn't easily cornered. "That the princess is beautiful is beyond doubt, but that's hardly foundation enough for a marriage," he replied.

The queen's eyes narrowed. "You are waiting to see if you like my younger daughter better before you make up your mind," she accused. "But we would have to completely renegotiate the terms from scratch. Tiger-Lin is worth so much more; she brings a throne with her."

Naissus looked affronted. "Your Majesty, I assure you I have no such aspirations—either to your younger daughter or your throne. The simple fact is that, in our kingdom, we marry for love. And while our parents may introduce us to someone they feel is a good match, in the end, the choice is ours. And I _will not_ marry a woman I do not know—although I am quite happy—and even eager—to get to know Princess Amichen better."

The queen looked as if she had been bowled over. In fact, she had to sit down again. "You . . . marry for _love_?"

"Yes."

She suddenly burst out laughing. "How silly! Love first!" It took her a full minute to regain control of herself. In the meantime, Amichen's face burned with shame again and she purposefully didn't look at Prince Naissus while her mother laughed at him.

"Love is something that develops over time," the queen said, using the same condescending tone she used on Amichen so frequently. "If we waited for love to develop between the two of you, Amichen would wait out her best child-bearing years. After all, she is only human; she will die young."

Amichen wished the marble floor would open up and swallow her whole.

"Perhaps that's a difference between our peoples," Naissus said with a carefully-controlled voice: "we in Hyrule can fall in love relatively quickly. If I develop feelings for Amichen, and she is at least inclined towards me and willing to marry, then we can marry and allow the full measure of our love to develop within marriage, as you suggest."

"What a strange way of doing things," the queen said.

"Well, isn't this proposed marriage—at least in part—about the exchange of our two cultures? While I respect your traditions, I wish mine to play a part as well."

"Very well. You may take whatever time you feel necessary to make your decision. And in the meantime, we can talk and exchange cultures."

"I would prefer to return to Hyrule before making my decision."

The queen looked shocked. "You . . . do not wish to stay?"

"It's not that—"

"You don't want to marry her and you're trying to find a way out of it," the queen accused, cutting him off.

"On the contrary; I intend to take Princess Amichen with me."

That brought the queen up short. "I . . . don't understand."

For once, Amichen was in complete agreement with her mother; she didn't understand either.

"If Princess Amichen is to leave her family and country behind, shouldn't she at least know where she's going?" Naissus asked. "I would not feel comfortable arranging a marriage if she didn't know what she was getting into. She may find our ways too strange. She may be too homesick. I would never want her to be miserable."

"She is a princess," her mother argued. "Even if she will not inherit my throne, she knows her duty. She will accept your kingdom and culture; she need not like it beforehand."

"Call it another cultural difference," Naissus replied, a bit firmly, "but I want to make sure she will be happy _before_ either of us commits to marriage. As is commonly said in our land, 'An unhappy wife makes for an unhappy life.' I don't want to be unhappy, nor do I want Princess Amichen to be unhappy."

"So . . . if I understand you," the queen said slowly, "you mean to take Amichen back to Hyrule with you—without marrying her first—and then . . . what?"

"If we mutually decide to marry"—he seemed to put emphasis on the word 'mutual'—"then I or my parents will be in contact with you to make arrangements as to when and where. If we are to have the wedding here, then we will come back. If not, then we will stay in Hyrule."

"And if you don't _mutually_ decide to marry?" The queen said the same word with derision.

"Then I will escort Amichen back here."

She scoffed a little. "No offense, but no one will want to marry her if you take her home, try her out, and then bring her back like defective merchandise."

Amichen saw a pink tinge high on Naissus' pale cheeks. Apparently he _did_ take offense. "I never said anything about 'trying her out,'" he said, his carefully-controlled voice slipping just a bit as he snapped off his words. "I would never dream of insulting her or you in such a way, nor would I dream of ruining her future prospects if I wasn't what she wanted in a husband.

"It is my proposal that Princess Amichen accompany me back to Hyrule as my cousin and as a guest and ambassador at our court. She will be treated with every courtesy that a princess and emissary of Shi-Ha should be afforded. Her honor will never be compromised—nor will anyone be given any reason to think it might have been. My mother will personally vouchsafe her honor, and oversee our courtship, as it may be. And, as you can see," he said, gesturing to his entourage, who were standing a respectful distance behind him, "we will not travel alone.

"And furthermore, I can assure you that no mention of marriage has been made outside my family—simply because it is customary for us to pick our own spouses. If you have not told your people that you intend for us to marry, then there is no reason for anyone to know that this goodwill trip may result in a marriage. For all anyone outside this room knows, I am merely here to be friendly and renew our family ties. If Amichen and I do not decide to get married, there will be no face lost—no shame. She will come home from a successful ambassadorial visit and then you can put it out that it's time to start thinking about her marriage.

"So, I ask you, if our kingdoms are on friendly terms, and we are cousins, as we say we are, then what harm is there for me to escort my cousin back to my kingdom? What's wrong with us visiting, as we used to do? There is no risk to anyone in doing so."

Amichen was impressed; he had turned the tables on her mother and backed _her_ into a corner. If she insisted that it would be wrong for her daughter to go with him, then it would imply that they were _not_ on friendly and familial terms—that it was out of the question for a member of the royal family of Shi-Ha to go and visit the royal family of Hyrule.

Instead of renewing alliances, her refusal to allow Amichen to go would further strain their relations—maybe to the point of breaking.

Amichen could see her mother mulling all of this over with her cunning and brilliant mind; no possible outcome would escape her notice. She was always playing chess several moves ahead.

"Very well," the queen said at last. "But I will send a chaperone with Amichen . . . for the trip," she added. "Of course I trust the queen, your mother, to see that everything is proper when Amichen is at court, but she will need a maid on the trip there anyway, and I'm sure she will be more comfortable not being the only woman in your party and having someone familiar from home, as well."

Naissus bowed slightly. "I think that sounds very wise, Your Majesty."

She rose to her feet. "Good. Then we will see you off tomorrow."

Naissus looked surprised. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Why wait? Besides, I had already begun preparations for Amichen's departure; it won't be hard to hurry it along." She looked at him. "Or do you need time to rest and recover?"

He looked at her oddly, but when he responded, his words were polite and emotionless. "No, I'm used to riding and traveling; I can leave tomorrow."

"Good. Now, let me have someone show you and your companions to your rooms so you can freshen up and then we'll have supper."


	2. On the Road

The next morning, Amichen was awakened early to prepare for her trip to Hyrule. She was a more than a little nervous about the enterprise—namely because she was afraid of saying or doing something which would cause Naissus to decide against her. In some ways, she thought it was worse to have to earn the right to be his wife than to just marry him sight-unseen. But he seemed to be very polite and conscientious, so maybe if she messed things up badly, he would at least be willing to pretend that his people didn't want a foreign princess or something like that. Her mother would not be pleased, but at Amichen would be spared the worst of her rage if she found out that everything was Amichen's fault.

Dinner the night before had been odd, to say the least. Her sister, as always, had dominated the conversation and had openly flirted with Naissus. Amichen was rather shocked by her behavior—which was unusual, even for Tiger-Lin—but she concluded that her sister was jealous that she was getting all the attention for once, and Tiger-Lin, whether consciously or unconsciously, was determined to make herself the center of attention again—hence her hanging on Prince Naissus' every word and batting her eyelashes to make him notice her blue eyes.

But while he was exceedingly polite and listened to everything Tiger-Lin had to say, he didn't seem terribly captivated by her—certainly not to the point that he forgot Amichen existed, because he was constantly asking her what she liked and what her opinion was on things. Amichen had gotten a bit tongue-tied because, while she always had an opinion, she so rarely got to express it, she had trouble articulating it when she did have the opportunity.

In the end, Tiger-Lin usually ended up taking control of the conversation again before Amichen could finish. Amichen still wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed by that.

But, despite the pressure to win over Naissus, Amichen was, for the most part, excited about the impending trip. She had only been out of the capital once in her life. Because she was human, she couldn't teleport like everyone else; she had to travel the slow way. So she usually got left behind when the court went anywhere.

And now here she was, about to go to another kingdom! Even her sister had never been to another kingdom before.

Her mother came in a short time later to personally oversee the final packing and preparations.

"These Hyrulians have strange customs," her mother began to lecture. "But you must learn their ways as quickly as possible and act as they do. You must be seen to be very willing to belong to them. Hopefully then they will agree to accept you."

She rolled her eyes. "Personally, I think this is all just an elaborate ruse to tell us 'no;' I don't think this prince has any intention of marrying you at all. But maybe he's using this trip as an excuse to introduce you to other members of the royal family to see if anyone else is willing to sacrifice for the sake of diplomacy. They have children in litters over there; if this prince doesn't want you, I'm sure they have half a dozen more available. And I suppose I'd even allow you to marry a duke; they have those in abundance as well.

"With any luck, you'll get a marriage out of _someone_ in Hyrule. But, you must do your part." She walked over to Amichen and fussed with her gown, tugging her corselet down a little to make sure her bosom rested on top of it, rather than hid behind it.

"You mustn't come back without a marriage," her mother continued to lecture. "Learn their ways, as I've said. And, for pity's sake, try to be more witty and entertaining than you were last night at dinner. Gods! You were like a fish out of water, gaping constantly and having nothing to say.

"And, if worse comes to worst, find someone who is weak and find a way to compromise yourself. Don't do anything with a strong-willed man! He will find a way to weasel out of a marriage proposal. Pick someone who is . . . well, like you—someone who won't stand up for himself—someone easily controlled. Then, when I insist on restitution for your honor, he will feel compelled to marry you."

Amichen's mouth actually dropped open. "Are . . . are you saying I should dishonor myself just to trap a man into marrying me?"

Her mother patted her cheek with a gentle condescension. "Amichen, this is why you could never be queen of Shi-Ha; you don't have the stomach for politics."

The queen watched as the maids packed the last of Amichen's clothing into a trunk. "No, you must marry into Hyrule," she continued. "It is a gentle place with gentle people with no stomach for war and little even for politics. They like to keep their noses in their books and study all day. . . . Although the gods know they must spend plenty of time in bed, too, given all the children they have."

She turned back to look at her daughter. There was something that almost amounted to softness in her eyes—which shocked Amichen, since she had never seen her mother look that way before. "You were never meant for Shi-Ha," her mother said. "Even if you were Hylian, you would still not belong here and I would still not make you my heir. I think you will be happier in Hyrule. You are like them. You just have to make them see that you belong there, too, and find someone who is willing to keep you there."

"Or trick them," Amichen said sourly.

Her mother just shrugged. "Or trick them. I don't care how you do it, just do it. . . . But I think, once you see Hyrule, you will not want to leave and you'll do what it takes to stay there."

Amichen didn't know how to feel about her mother's words. On the one hand, she made it sound as if she didn't want her to come back, which only confirmed the feelings Amichen had had all of her life—feelings of not being good enough, of being shameful, of needing to be hidden away—but at the same time, her mother seemed to think that going somewhere else would make her happy. And Amichen wasn't aware that her mother had _ever_ thought about her happiness before.

Before she knew it, she was being bustled down the long, steep steps into the courtyard. She was thankful that she was dressed in more casual robes. Today, the hem of her longest robe didn't quite touch the floor, so she didn't have to worry about tripping on it, and underneath she wore a very loose linen shift that kept anything from being revealed if the split in her robes was pulled apart. Even her sleeves were shorter; the cuff barely came to the ends of her fingers. And instead of her elaborate crown—which was prone to tangling if she wasn't very careful—she was wearing a circlet set with pearls and rubies.

In the courtyard, Prince Naissus and the rest of the delegation were waiting, already mounted on their white horses. Amichen saw some coal-black horses—the pride of the Shi-Ha royal family—were loaded down with her baggage. An elderly, rather sour-faced matron, Hashin, was also mounted on a black horse. Hashin was one of her mother's personal attendants and Amichen knew she would be very careful of her honor . . . as long as it was necessary. And if it became necessary to lose it, then Hashin would quickly make the arrangements for that, too. She almost certainly had been well instructed by the queen before departure and she would do everything she was supposed to do with strict efficiency. There could be no doubt that she belonged to the queen and would further the queen's interests, not Amichen's.

In the midst of all the riders and baggage train was a gold-glittering litter. Long poles connected it to a horse in front and another horse behind. They were utterly docile beasts that were trained to follow other horses. So long as there was a horse in front of them, they would walk, turn, or stop automatically.

As Amichen approached the bottom stair, Naissus jumped lightly off his own pure-white horse and came to meet her.

"Good morning," he said. Amichen carefully studied his face and tone of voice. Was he happy to see her? Did he really think it a good morning? Was he anxious to go—or annoyed at having to leave the day after he arrived?

She couldn't tell at all.

"Good morning, sir," she said, trying to make her voice sound pleasant. Maybe if she was openly cheerful, it would make him more cheerful as well.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, with no change to his tone.

"Yes."

A servant put a footstool in front of the litter and Naissus offered her his hand. She felt a little shy when she put her hand in his and let him help her step up into the litter. But, by the time she had gotten herself situated, half-reclined against the silken pillows, he had gone back to his horse.

Maybe it was as her mother suspected: he was unimpressed by her, but either out of pity or because he was unable to think of what else to do, he was taking her back to Hyrule to help her find a husband there.

The queen stepped up to the side of the litter and stuck her head in. "Remember what I said," she said in a low, stern voice.

Amichen nodded meekly.

Then her mother did something wholly unexpected: she leaned in and kissed Amichen on the forehead. "Gods be with you," she said, then she swiftly turned away and began to walk up the stairs.

Did . . . did her mother have _tears_ in her eyes? Surely not.

She was still puzzling over her mother's uncharacteristically maternal behavior when Naissus gave the signal and the train of horses began to turn and head for the main gate. Amichen's litter gave a hard jolt at starting, then the two horses fell into step and the litter began to gently rock from side to side.

Amichen leaned forward and closed the sheer inner curtains of the litter. Her sister could ride about the city openly because it was considered good and necessary for the people to see their future queen, but outside the shelter of the palace, Amichen—like all the other unmarried noble girls—was only glimpsed dimly through the curtains of her litter. It was thought that if a common man looked upon an eligible young noble girl, he would fall madly and irrevocably in love with her. And while that could be pleasing to the ego, it could also lead to trouble if he became too bold. So, as much for the mental well-being of the men as the girls' safety, they kept themselves behind curtains. But they were sheer curtains, so a faint outline of their faces and bodies could still be seen, which only added to the myth.

As soon as they were outside the gate, the people in the street began to press closer, trying to peer into the litter.

"Who is it?"

"Princess Amichen . . . I think."

"Is she really human?"

"Who cares? She's beautiful enough for me."

"I want to see!"

Amichen smiled and waved at the people from behind the curtain, which caused them to shout with joy.

They, at least, didn't hold her human faults against her.

It was very slow going through the narrow streets—made even narrower by the press of the crowd. Word had quickly spread that one of the princes of Hyrule had come to Ninting personally to escort Princess Amichen to Hyrule. A foreign prince was quite the novelty, so the people were as interested in seeing him as seeing Amichen.

"My, isn't he handsome?" one girl could be overheard saying.

"They say they're all handsome, those princes of Hyrule."

A sigh. "I wish I could be a princess and ride off to marry one of them."

Amichen tried not to snort too loudly. _If you want my life, I will happily trade it with you_ , she thought to herself. The peasant girl might find that being a princess was a lot harder than it looked—and that she might be called on to do something very distasteful—even dishonorable—all for the sake of furthering the interests of the kingdom.

A princess was never her own person; she was owned by her parents and moved around like a pawn on a chessboard. Her duty was to marry who she was told to and have the expected number of children.

Even Tiger-Lin, who would one day rule in her own right, was not independent. She would likewise marry who their mother chose and even once she became queen, she would be expected to bear children until she produced a girl worthy of being the next queen. If, like their mother, she ended up with a human girl-child, she would have to try again.

Amichen's mother may have mocked the Hyrulians for having "litters" of children, but the women of Shi-Ha were no less brood mares than the royal women of Hyrule. They just produced fewer children.

Amichen breathed a sigh of relief when, at last, they passed through the city gate and were out on the wide highway that passed through tall forests of shady bamboo. It was late in the spring and warm, but not too hot, and the birds were singing and the frogs croaking, and the air was full of sweet smells from the flowers and new grass. It was an absolutely perfect day to be outside.

Naissus dropped back a little so that he was riding beside Amichen's litter. "So, are you _required_ to stay in this thing?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hashin replied for her from the other side of the litter, where she was keeping close guard. "It would be unseemly for any common man to see the princess," she explained; "it might drive him mad with wantonness."

Naissus bent down a little, trying to look into the litter. "However do you keep servants in your castle if they're all dying of love for you?" he asked teasingly. "Or do you only hire women?"

Amichen giggled. But it was Hashin who replied again. "Of course not. But we only hire boys and train them as they grow older. That way, they grow up immune to the effect."

"Truly?" Nassisus, said, still looking at Amichen.

"Yes, truly," Hashin replied.

"Let me ask another question: is Princess Amichen a mute?"

"Of course not." Hashin sounded affronted that he would even suggest such a thing.

Naissus looked over the top of the litter at Hashin. "Then why will you not allow her to speak for herself? I wish to have a conversation with her, not with you."

Hashin looked completely outraged. Amichen had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at her.

Instead, she leaned over and pulled back the curtains so she could see Naissus clearly. She found herself staring up into his blue eyes, rather mesmerized. "I can speak. What would you like to know?"

"Can you get out of the litter and ride?"

"That wouldn't be proper," Hashin interrupted, obviously not deterred. "And, besides, she doesn't know how to ride."

"Do you not?" Naissus asked, never looking away from Amichen.

"Well, not really," she reluctantly admitted. "They tried to teach me when I was younger, but I wasn't very good, so my mother said I should use a litter instead." Actually, her mother had said she looked like a bag of manure bouncing limply on the back of a drunken horse, but Amichen didn't think it necessary to repeat her exact words. If she was going to marry someone in the Hyrulian royal family, it wouldn't do her cause any favors to point out how utterly hopeless she was.

"Would you be afraid to try? I brought a horse with me . . . just in case you needed it," he hinted. "I would trust it with my baby sister—in fact, it was her horse when she was younger. She thinks it too plodding now, but if you're unfamiliar with riding, it will be a good horse for you."

Amichen swallowed back her fear—not of getting hurt, but of making an ass of herself. If he saw how she rode, he might want to take her back home immediately.

But, at the same time, her mother had bade her to learn their customs, and obviously one of them was riding. He had even gone to the trouble to bring her a riding horse all the way from Hyrule. So, there seemed to be nothing for it but to bravely try.

"I will try it," she said.

Naissus pulled to a stop and everyone else stopped as well.

"Your Highness, this isn't proper!" Hashin protested loudly.

"If I'm to go to Hyrule, I must do things as they do in Hyrule," Amichen said, swinging her legs out of the litter.

"You're still in Shi-Ha! You're not even out of sight of the city!"

Naissus jumped down from his horse and helped her out of the litter. Both of them utterly ignored Hashin.

Naissus waved to one of his men, and the man rode up with another horse on a lead. The young man—close to Naissus in age—was grinning widely, and it made Amichen smile, too. She felt as if they were getting away with something naughty.

Then the young man took her aback by winking at her.

Was it true after all? Were common men really driven mad by the beauty of the Shi-Ha noblewomen?

Naissus playfully smacked the man on the leg. "I saw that, Rodger," he said in a low voice so no one else could hear.

"What?" Rodger asked, suddenly wide-eyed and innocent.

"You mustn't mind my cousin," Naissus told Amichen. "No manners at all."

Rodger leaned down against the pommel of his saddle so he could speak quietly with them. "I was just expressing my approval of the young lady's bravery."

"You were flirting, and you know it."

Amichen had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling like a fool. She had never had anyone flirt with her before; men always seemed to gravitate towards her fiery, blue-eyed sister. (Although, the fact that Tiger-Lin was the heir-apparent might have also helped.)

"Me? Flirt?" Rodger said, putting his hand to his chest and looking shocked. "I think you have mistaken me for someone else."

"Did I not see you, the day before we left, with your arms around two of our cousins and a third girl trying to hang on?"

"They were merely wishing me a safe trip," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Yeah, right. And they were just giving you a 'goodbye' kiss behind the hedge in the garden when they thought no one was looking."

Rodger's cheeks actually flushed a little. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," he said, suddenly sticking his nose up into the air and turning his horse around to move to the back of the line.

"Did you really see girls kissing him?" Amichen whispered to Naissus, utterly scandalized. She couldn't imagine such a thing happening in their court. . . . Not unless it was a serving girl; they didn't count. But kissing royal cousins? Actual noblewomen being so wanton?

Naissus looked at her. "Yes. I swear none of them seem able to help it. He just attracts women like bees to nectar. But he's a very good person," he added seriously. "He would never take advantage."

Amichen thought it already sounded like he had taken advantage. But Hyrule must have lower standards when it came to decent behavior between young men and women if kissing wasn't considered to be very serious.

That meant "compromising" herself suddenly became much more difficult. What her mother would find disgraceful and needing immediate remedy, the people of Hyrule might shrug off.

But she tried not to think about it. Maybe there would be no need to go to such extreme lengths. There was a lot of time yet and apparently there were young, available men in Hyrule who found her attractive. And she had only seen a few; there were surely many more where they were going.

Naissus helped her onto the back of the horse. As promised, the horse had no reaction whatsoever, despite the fact that she had to bump and twist and jostle to get her underdress folded between her backside and the saddle and the rest of her robes draped carefully over her legs and tucked down under her knees so nothing showed. In fact, the horse lowered its head and slowly blinked, as if it was falling asleep.

"Ready?" Naissus asked, when she at last seemed settled.

"Yes, I think so."

"Let's free up your hands first," he said, taking her hand in his. She watched as he rolled her sleeve up to her wrist. Then he did the other one.

"There. Now you can ride," he said, offering her the reins.

She took them and tried to hold them firmly and look competent, but he gently took the reins away again. "Like this," he said, showing her how to thread them between her fingers properly.

It took her a couple of tries, but she finally got them right.

"Do you want to go it alone, or do you want me to put a lead rope on him?" Naissus asked.

"Um . . ."

She hesitated, wondering if she should be cowardly, but smart, or be brave and trust to providence. But Naissus found an answer in her non-answer.

"Let me lead him for a while," he said, turning to his saddle bag. "Once you're confident, then you can try on your own. It will take us close to two weeks to get back to Hyrule anyway; plenty of time to learn."

"Is it really that far?" she asked, as he buckled a lead through the horse's bit ring.

"It is if you're moving slowly. If you get confident, though—and we send the litter back—we can move faster."

Amichen suspected that was what he really wanted: the ability to move faster and get home quicker. If not for her, he and the others could simply teleport home and save themselves the time and effort.

But if he was impatient to get home, he made no show of it. He merely mounted up and tied Amichen's horse's lead through a ring on the front of his saddle. "There, now you won't go anywhere without me," he said with a smile.

She found herself smiling back. "Did you worry that I might?"

"Maybe," he said, taking up his own reins with the ease and confidence that Amichen lacked. "All this freedom might go to your head. What would I tell your mother if you ran away to live wild on the moors?"

"First, you would have to tell her what a moor is, since we don't have any and I doubt she knows what they are."

Naissus laughed, and Amichen decided she liked the sound of it. It was easy laughter, coming from a man who laughed often. It didn't have a meanness to it like so much of the laughter at court.

"So I take it you've never seen a moor?" he asked, as he kicked his horse into a walk. Whether because it responded to Amichen's kick, or because it was following Naissus' horse, Amichen's gelding began to walk as well.

"No, but I've read about them," she replied.

"We'll pass by them as we cross the border into Hyrule. Many people find them lonely or spooky, but I find them to be quite . . . well, I'm not sure of the word. You can be alone there, but you will only feel lonely if you don't like being alone. For me, it can be restful to just stand there in the silence and the aloneness and watch the mist roll over the hills and still waters."

Amichen leaned forward in the saddle in excitement. Her horse picked up its head, thinking that was a signal and started to jog. She quickly sat back and jerked hard on the reins, pulling him to a stop.

"Whoa, there," Naissus said, reaching out and patting the horse's neck, trying to calm it. It was tossing its head angrily. "You don't have to pull quite so hard," he instructed Amichen; "he's a good horse and will stop with a light touch."

"I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright," he said, as if it was nothing. "It will take both of you a little time to get to know one another. You will learn how to tell him what you want with just enough force—and no more—and he will learn what you mean when you shift your weight—or, rather, that you don't mean anything at all.

"A good horse will teach you how to ride it," he added.

They resumed their ambling walk. "I was about to tell you that I understand what you're saying about the moors," Amichen said, picking up their conversation again with eagerness. "I sometimes go out into our garden late at night—after everyone is asleep—and I lie on a bench and look up at the sky. It's so quiet and peaceful and I like being alone."

"If you like the nighttime," he said, "I will take you out on the Great Plain of Hyrule one night when the moon is bright. It's beautiful in its emptiness at night, and with the moon bright on the grass, you can see perfectly well. It's great fun to go riding across it at the gallop; you will wear your horse out before you can cross it."

Amichen laughed a little. "I don't think I'm up for galloping—not even after two weeks of practice."

"I will take you on my horse," he promised. Then he added, "They say that Link and Zelda courted on that plain before the Dark Days—back when she was a princess and he was just a servant in her guard."

Amichen didn't think he dropped that tidbit of historical knowledge randomly. Was he hinting that he would like to court her on the same plain? Perhaps he was not as disinterested in her as her mother first suspected.

"It's such a romantic story, isn't it?" Amichen said. "And yet . . . scandalous."

He looked at her oddly. "Is that how you see it in Shi-Ha?"

"Well, I mean, he was her guard—a commoner. A fisherman, even. Or, at least, from a family of fishermen."

"He was also from the Knights of Hyrule."

"Yes, but that line had died out years and years before. He was common."

"Was he?"

"Well, yes," she said with certainty. "No nobleman would work as a fisherman for a living."

"And yet he was uncommon."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Do you think a common man could have done everything that he did? I mean, even a nobleman—would he be capable of killing all those demons? Don't you think what he did made him _un_ common?"

"Oh, I see what you mean: you're not talking about his bloodline; you're talking about his abilities."

"Yes, but were his abilities not influenced, at least in part, by his bloodline—polluted though you think it might have been?"

She was thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I suppose."

"That seems to be another difference between Hyrule and Shi-Ha: we don't put quite so much stock in nobility. Who you are, as a person—and how talented you are—count for a lot."

She understood then what he had been getting at all along. "Do you think us snobby?" she asked quietly.

"I . . . think you're different," he said carefully. "Your kingdom has reasons for having its cultural rules—just as we have ours. That we deemphasize nobility—relative to Shi-Ha, anyway—is Link's legacy—the legacy of a man who was born common but became completely uncommon."

She thought about what he had said for quite some time. She mulled over what it meant to be noble and how things might be different in Shi-Ha if Link had lived there instead of Hyrule. She wondered, if he was her ancestor, too, why his influence didn't reach their city.

"A rupee for your thoughts," Naissus said after a while.

"What?" she asked, startling out of the half-dream she slipped into when her mind drifted far away.

He smiled at her. "I said, 'A rupee for your thoughts.'"

"Oh, I was just thinking about what you said about nobility, then I thought about Link and how much our lines have diverged. It seems strange that we come from the same ancestors, but have such different cultures."

"Not true. I mean, we do come from the same family line, but the culture of Shi-Ha and Hyrule were already in place. Link and Zelda—and your ancestress, Anne-Marie—may have changed some parts of our respective kingdoms' cultures, but they didn't change everything. Many customs stayed in place."

They continued to discuss and argue history and culture back and forth for hours. They were just warming up a discussion about the purpose and nature of nobility, as argued by the greatest philosophers of Shi-Ha and Hyrule, when Rodger—who had been hanging back a bit with the rest of the retinue, apparently to give them some privacy—spoke up. "Naissus, I hate to interrupt what sounds like a terribly interesting and very important conversation, but did you have any plans to stop for lunch? It's well past noon and we can barely hear you talking over the sounds of our growling stomachs."

Naissus pulled to a stop. "Yes, I suppose we ought to." He looked at Amichen. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she said, surprised to find that she was ravenous as soon as he mentioned it. A moment before, she had been so engrossed in their conversation, she hadn't felt hungry at all.

He looked around, then pointed up ahead to a small grove of trees. "Why don't we rest there in the shade?"

The men made a fire, spread out a couple of blankets, and they all sat down and had a very jovial lunch. It turned out that Rodger wasn't the only royal cousin. In fact, five of the men traveling with Naissus were his first or second cousins. He introduced Amichen to all of them: Rodger, who was a duke, plus Seymour, Walcott, Arlen, and Bodi. They were all close in age and had obviously been friends for a long time because they were constantly teasing, telling stories on one another, and joking as only intimates could do.

Amichen had never had such a fun meal before. In fact, she probably had never had so much fun at all in her life. And she certainly had never been the center of attention the way she was now.

When Amichen tried to get back onto her horse after lunch, she found her legs were so sore and stiff, she couldn't swing her leg over the back of the horse.

"What's wrong?" Naissus asked, catching her as she stumbled back from her failed attempt to mount.

"I'm a little sore," she admitted in a whisper.

"I'm sorry; I didn't think about the fact that you haven't ridden before. It will take you a little while to get used to it."

Disappointed, Amichen got into the litter again.

The men continued their banter as they traveled throughout the afternoon. They actually made an effort to include Amichen, but she found it hard to feel like a part of the conversation when she was seated lower than everyone else and had difficulty seeing who was talking. She eventually quit trying and, instead, fell asleep.

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was that the litter was no longer moving. Confused—and a bit worried—she quickly hopped out.

She found three round tents already set up, a cleaned and spitted hare roasting over a small cook-fire, and the young men sitting around it on the ground or using baggage chests as seats.

"Ah, there's our sleepy princess," Rodger said. "Just in time for dinner."

He gestured to her to join them, then he scooted over on his box and patted the bare spot beside him, inviting her to sit.

There wasn't really enough room for both of them to sit on the box—not without being rather indecently cozy.

Naissus nudged him. "Get up, Rodge, and let her have that seat."

Good-naturedly, Rodger stood up and gestured grandly for Amichen to take the entire box.

"Thank you," she said, having a seat.

Rodger immediately plopped down beside her and leaned in, resting his elbow on top of the box. He looked as if he was ready to crawl into her lap.

"So, how has your first day on the road been?" he asked, looking up at her rather saucily. Rodger was quite handsome, with bright blue eyes like Naissus' and light brown hair that hung in loose curls to his shirt collar. When he smiled—which seemed to be nearly continuously—he flashed dimples. He was a young man who knew he was good-looking and knew how to play it up to make women swoon over him. Yet, he was so cheerful, it was impossible to resent him for it.

"It's been wonderful," Amichen relied honestly. "I've really enjoyed being out here."

"And . . . are your legs feeling better?" he asked even as his fingers mischievously walked their way across the top of the box, towards her thigh.

Naissus reached over and slapped him on the back of the head. "Stop that," he said firmly.

"Ow! What did I do?" Rodger asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"You know _exactly_ what you were doing."

"I was just asking after Her Highness's well-being."

"You don't need to use your hands."

"Use them to do what?" he asked with a well-practiced innocent look.

A moment later, they were interrupted by Hashin. She had given all of them dirty looks all day long, but she had not tried to protest or argue with them since that morning. But it seemed she had reached her limit.

"You—get away!" she said, pushing herself between Rodger and Amichen, forcing him to scoot out of the way. Then Hashin plopped herself down on the box beside Amichen, nearly pushing her off the other side. Only Walcott, who was sitting against the other end, kept Amichen from falling off completely. She ended up leaned against him with half her behind on the box and the other half off. Her already sore posterior began to protest.

"I'm sorry, but you weren't invited to our dinner," Naissus said, eyeing Hashin coldly.

"I'm sorry the lot of you have the manners of peasant farmers," she snapped back. "I wouldn't have to intervene to protect Her Highness's honor if any of you were gentlemen."

That brought most of the men to their feet. Two of them grabbed Rodger, holding him back.

"How _dare_ you!" Rodger sputtered, red in the face. "How dare you!"

Naissus put himself between Rodger and Hashin. "Calm down," he said quietly, speaking to his cousin.

"I won't . . . I can't believe . . ." It seemed that when the normally good-natured Rodger was angry, he couldn't form complete sentences.

Naissus put his hands on Rodger's chest. "I'll sort it out."

Rodger just glared past him at Hashin.

"Rodge . . . go. Just go. Walk it off."

Finally, Rodger tore his gaze away from Hashin and stormed off down the road. Arlen and Bodi, who had been holding him back, followed after him more slowly, giving him a little space.

Naissus rounded on Hashin, his calm demeanor replaced with anger as startling as Rodger's.

"I don't know who you think you are, but Rodger is the Duke of Summerfield, a Knight of Hyrule, and my cousin, and you are _not_ to impugn his honor. Do I make myself clear?"

"I impugned nothing," Hashin said with a sniff, clearly not intimidated by his anger—but then, she was the personal servant of the Queen of Shi-Ha; she had certainly seen worse. "He was the one who dishonored himself."

Naissus took a step closer to her, threateningly. "He did no such thing."

"He did, and you know it! You chastised him yourself!"

"What I say to my own people is my business. I had everything in hand when you butted in. You may not be answerable to me, but you _will_ stay out of my business."

"Princess Amichen _is_ my business," Hashin snapped. "And when your people insult her person, that makes them—and by extension, you—my business."

They glared at one another for a long time, neither one backing down. Amichen could see Naissus' jaw working, as if he was trying to come up with something to say. . . . Or maybe he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he was trying to filter it into something that wasn't too ugly.

"No one intentionally insulted Princess Amichen," he said in a low, barely-controlled voice. "I appreciate that your culture is different, and maybe we say and do things that you would not say and do, but Rodger didn't mean her any insult—and certainly none of us would take it to mean such—and my words were only to caution him to be mindful that what may be acceptable to women in our kingdom might not be to Her Highness."

He spoke as if trying to be polite and diplomatic physically pained him, but he managed to keep his anger under control.

Hashin glared at him. "Her Majesty has allowed Princess Amichen to go with you to Hyrule because she is hopeful that a marriage will be forthcoming. But remember that the deal is between you and the Princess—not some second-rate duke. And you promised that you would not do anything to stain her honor."

"I have not stained her honor, nor has anyone in this camp," Naissus snapped. "And no one ever will. But if she ever feels uncomfortable with anything done or said, all she need do is say so; no man here would ever want to do anything to make her unhappy.

Hashin turned to look at Amichen, almost accusingly.

"No one has bothered me," Amichen said quietly.

"Fine," Hashin said, standing up. "But, if you don't want me looking after your honor, Highness, mind you look after it yourself. You are the one who will lose the most if you're spoiled by these wild boys and no one wants to marry you afterward."

And with that, she strode over to one of the tents and disappeared out of sight.

Amichen wondered if Hashin had bonded with her mother before they left. Even now, was she tattling? And if so, what was she saying? Did she even know about the queen's secondary plan? Or did Hashin think Amichen strayed too far off script too quickly?

"You need to learn to control your servants," Naissus said, suddenly turning his anger on her. "I appreciate that your mother selected her and that you didn't have any choice in the matter, but there still comes a point when you need to stand up for what's right and put her back in her place. _I_ shouldn't have to argue with her. . . . Unless you think she was in the right?"

"Um . . . no," Amichen said, taken aback. "I didn't have a problem—"

"Then you should have said something instead of letting her insult me and Rodger—all of us. She has impugned our honor, and if she were a man, I would have thrown down my gauntlet already. As it is, she's a woman and a servant— _your_ servant—and it's up to you to control her. And if you don't have the fortitude to put her in her place, then you could have at least spoken up on our behalf. If you're that interested in marrying into Hyrule—and marrying me in particular—then you need to learn whose side you're on. Because I have no interest in any woman who isn't on my side."

And with that, he turned and walked off down the road, the opposite direction of Rodger.

Seymour and Walcott—who had been silent the entire time—exchanged awkward glances, then they got up and trotted down the road after Naissus.

"Suss, wait up!"

Amichen was left alone at the campfire. Nearby, she could see the three serving men who were in Naissus' entourage looking at what was going on with curiosity. Then they began to talk among themselves and gesture—no doubt coming up with their own ideas about what had caused the big argument between all the nobles.

Amichen stared vacantly at the fire, not even hearing the sizzle as fat dripped from the roasting hare into the flames.

She felt thunderstruck—as if a monsoon had come out of nowhere, dropped a torrential flood of rain on her head, then blinked back into nothingness. Just a few minutes ago, she was having a good time and now, suddenly, everyone was angry. And, somehow, it was partly—or mostly—her fault.

She hadn't even said anything. . . . But then, Naissus seemed to think that was the problem.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She hadn't even made it through a whole day and she had already messed everything up. Naissus could not love a meek little coward like her, and none of the rest would have any interest in her, either.

She might as well go back home in disgrace.

She jumped to her feet and ran towards a tent, her tears blinding her. She didn't know what tent she was in and she didn't care; she just didn't want the servants to see her crying. She didn't want them to know how much she hurt.

She flung herself down on a pallet on the grassy floor inside the tent and sobbed.

She was everything her mother had always accused her of being: helpless, inept, spineless. She couldn't even stand up to her own maid, even when she knew Hashin was overreacting and speaking out of turn. She couldn't speak up for herself. She was a doormat for everyone. That was why she could never be queen of Shi-Ha, and apparently she was too weak even for the youngest prince of Hyrule.

And the Hyrulian dukes weren't looking very promising, either.

Why had the gods done this to her? Why couldn't she have been born to some peasant farmer or fisherman? She could have been a good daughter to a simple couple. Being pretty and smart would have been plenty good enough for them; they would have been proud of her. Even being human wouldn't have been looked at as a handicap, since most of the peasantry were still human.

She continued to sob—crying not just because of her shame and the lost opportunity to win Naissus, but for all the hurt she had ever felt—all the feelings of never being good enough that she had endured all her life.

She was crying so hard, she never noticed a light touch on her back.

"Amichen . . ."

She jerked up and turned to look. Naissus was kneeling beside her, looking concerned.

"Amichen, I . . ." He struggled for words. He finally gave up and sat down on the pallet beside her. "Come here," he said, gesturing to her.

She wasn't sure what he wanted, but she pushed herself to her hands and knees, trying to hastily wipe her face and nose with the back of her sleeve.

Gently, he pulled her to him until she was cradled in his lap, like a child. He leaned back against a box and wrapped his arms around her. "Amichen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for this whole mess. I assure you that Rodger meant no insult or harm to you. But I will admit that he went a little too far. He's so used to flirting with girls at home, he forgot himself and who he was with. He shouldn't have been so casual with you—especially knowing that your people are more . . . reserved than we are.

"If he insulted you, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Amichen shook her head a little. "He didn't insult me. I . . . kind of like the attention," she mumbled, not looking at him. "I've never had anyone pay attention to me before."

"Why on earth not?"

"Because I'm human. Because I'm not good enough to be queen. Because my sister is a hundred times more beautiful."

"Is that what people think?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

She looked up at him in shock. "Don't . . . didn't you think her beautiful?"

"She wasn't bad-looking, but she's not as pretty as you, I don't think."

Amichen was even more shocked. "Really?"

"Yes."

She looked at him a minute. "You're just saying that."

"Do you think I'm a liar?"

"No," she hurried to say before he got mad again, "but . . . maybe you would say something just to make me feel better."

"Amichen, I honestly think you are the prettier sister. In fact, we all think so; we talked about you last night after dinner, and all the others think I'm getting the better offer."

She could only gape at him. "But . . . Tiger-Lin has blue eyes and I don't."

"I can see how that would be a beautiful curiosity in your country, but it's commonplace in Hyrule. Your dark eyes are much more exotic and beautiful to me . . . Besides, they suit you. Tiger-Lin's blue eyes look . . . odd to me—out of place. They don't match up with her face and skin color. Your dark eyes look right for your people."

Amichen had never considered that something unusual could be ugly just as easily as it could be beautiful.

He looked down, unable to meet her eyes. "And . . . I must apologize for what I said, as well. I ought to know, better than most, that it's not easy to be a royal child; we must do as we're told. Your mother sent that . . . woman with you and gave her a mission; nothing you can say will override your mother's orders to her. That's all there is to it. And I should have recognized that instead of turning my anger on you."

Amichen turned her face away, hiding it in the soft wool of his tunic. "It . . . hurt . . ." she mumbled.

"I'm sorry," he said, stroking her hair. "Gods, I am so very sorry."

"It hurt because it's true," she continued. "Everything you said about me is true."

She pulled back and looked up at him. Fresh tears began to slide down her already-wet face. "I'm everything you said I am. I don't have any courage. I can't speak up for myself. I can't even control my servants—and not just Hashin; none of them.

"My mother told me that even if I had been born Hylian—even if my eyes had been blue—she still would have never made me her heir. I'm not strong enough to be queen. I'm not strong enough to be anything."

She hid her face against him again. "Mother said I should go to Hyrule because it was full of gentle people who like to study—like me," she mumbled. "But I'm not even strong enough for that."

She began to sob again.

"Oh, Amichen, don't cry," Naissus said, holding her tighter and gently rocking. "Shh, don't cry. I didn't mean what I said."

"But it's true!" she called out between sobs. "It's all true. I'm useless. Worthless."

He stopped rocking and took her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. She hated to think of what she looked like with red eyes, a wet, splotchy face, and a runny nose.

"Amichen, stop," he said firmly. "You are not useless and you are not worthless."

"But—"

"I'm sure you've been led to believe that all your life, but that doesn't make it true.

"I think you're stronger than anyone knows—even yourself. I mean, look at where you are. If you were a coward, you would have never left home. But you set out with people you only just met without a moment's hesitation and you never looked back. And even though you didn't know how to ride, you got on a horse without hesitation.

"I don't think you're a coward. You're probably just not assertive by nature, and growing up in . . . your situation, where assertiveness is expected, you were made to feel that you were weak and cowardly. But your courage is just of a different nature.

"I know, because I'm not a terribly assertive person," he confessed. "I don't like conflict and I will try my best to make sure everyone is happy. But I've had to learn not to let people take advantage of me and I've had to learn that leadership means standing up for others and myself.

"It's not easy for me, because it's not natural, and I have to work at it. But it can be done . . . As you saw this evening."

He sighed heavily and looked away. "And I guess the real reason why I took my anger out on you is because I felt I needed your support—because sometimes I still don't feel confident in myself. Everything your maid said shamed me and I didn't know what to say to make her stop. I guess . . . I guess I wanted you to make her stop because I didn't know how to."

She looked at him with pity. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for. If I start a fight, I must finish it; I can't expect others to do it for me. And, besides, I've been where you are; I'm the last person who should blame you for doing what seems best—what feels right—which is to say nothing and hope it all blows over."

He smiled at her a little. "You see, I wouldn't be a very good king, either."

"I think you would be a very good king," she said honestly.

"Well, I guess I'd be a decent one in Hyrule, but definitely not in Shi-Ha."

She shook her head. "No, not in Shi-Ha."

He shifted her out of his lap. "So, you see, neither of us is cut out to rule in Shi-Ha. But I don't think that makes either of us worthless."

"You're not worthless."

"And neither are you."

He stood up, then offered her his hand. "Are you ready to eat now? I'm afraid our hare is a bit overcooked, though."

She wiped her face on her sleeve again. "I'll be there in a minute."

He smiled kindly at her. "Alright," he said, before walking out.

When she emerged a few minutes later, feeling calmer—and hopefully looking better—she found that everyone had reassembled at the fire and the men were talking as if nothing had ever happened.

Amichen quickly glanced over to the other fire and saw the serving men still sitting around it, talking, but there was no sign of Hashin.

As soon as she resumed her seat on the box near the fire, Rodger came over to her. He knelt down in front of her and took her hand in his.

"I'm sorry if I gave you any offense, and I'm sorry that my actions ruined everyone's good time," he said with quiet sincerity.

"You didn't offend me."

"I'm glad. I certainly didn't mean to. But Naissus is right: I should be more careful about what I do and say and with whom I do and say it. Not everyone likes being teased."

"Teasing is making fun of someone out of meanness to try and hurt them," Amichen corrected. "Joking with someone is just that: a laugh shared equally. I appreciate the difference between the two and I know you were doing the latter, not the former."

He smiled at her and she felt herself go warm inside. Then he bent down and kissed the back of her hand—pressing his lips against her bare skin. "Your Highness," he whispered, looking up at her again, "you are a very sweet soul—and a much better person than I am. I will be your man for the rest of my life."

He pressed his lips to her hand again, then pushed himself to his feet and began helping cut up the hare and dish up supper.

Naissus quietly moved over to Amichen and sat down on the ground beside her.

"See, he's not a bad person," he whispered to her. "He likes to have fun and laugh and make other people laugh—and sometimes he goes overboard—but he would never want to hurt anyone. Like you said, there's never any meanness in what he says or does. There's not a mean bone in his body."

"What did he mean," she whispered back, her voice barely audible, "when he said he would be my man? What does that mean in your kingdom?"

Naissus smiled. "It's something we say as a way of . . . creating friendships, I suppose you would say. Generally, it's men who say it to women, or inferiors to superiors, but sometimes it goes the opposite way."

"So . . . he is my friend now?"

"It's a little more than that. It's . . . an alliance, really. And something of a service contract. You aren't really expected to do anything, but he's expected to do for you. If you weren't already my guest and under my protection, then you would under his. He would be expected to take care of you on the road, and when we're in Hyrule, it would be his job to show you around and make sure you have accommodations and whatever else you need. And he would be expected to speak for you—even stand up for you—at court. He should take your side in arguments—at least in serious ones—and if you were ever brought up on charges, he should speak as a character witness for you.

"He would, in effect, act like a lifelong friend or close family member to you."

Amichen was impressed—and a little awestruck. "And . . . nothing is expected of me in return?"

"No. Well, you shouldn't do anything to make him regret his pledge—or worse, rescind it. Generally, if someone rescinds their pledge, it reflects badly on you, not them; people become suspicious of what you've done to lose that person's respect.

"But, even though nothing is expected of you, the feeling of friendship is usually mutual. If you were in trouble, he would expect you to turn to him first for help or guidance. It could even be considered an insult if you _didn't_ seek his help first. And when we get back to Hyrule, he will surely invite you to his estate, and it would be unfriendly—bordering on rude—if you turned down his offer of hospitality."

"But . . . would you not think it rude if I left after you've invited me and I'm your guest?"

"No. All you have to say is, 'He is my man, and I can't refuse his hospitality.' Everyone will understand—even approve. We take our friendships very seriously."

She looked at him curiously. "Are you anyone's man?"

He gestured to the others. "I belong to everyone here, and they to me. They are as much my brothers as my real brothers." He chuckled a little. "In reality, I'm closer to them than to my real brothers. I'm the last son; there are four sisters and nearly nine years between me and my next-oldest brother. By the time I was old enough to play, my brothers were too old for childish things like that. So, I ended up growing up with my cousins; we're all within two years' age of each other.

"Don't get me wrong; I love my brothers," he added, "but I love them as you will love any of your siblings. My cousins, though, are my best friends."

"Are you getting misty-eyed over us again?" Seymour asked, interrupting them to offer plates heaped with steaming-hot meat and a pottage of grain and vegetables.

Naissus grinned and took the proffered plate. "I think you misheard me; I was talking about my horse. But I could see how you could confuse yourself with my horse; from your front and his rear, you both resemble."

All the men erupted into laugher, including Seymour. "Says the man who once had a bird nest in his hair!" Seymour jabbed back.

"It just landed on my head; it didn't nest."

"Yeah, why would it need to?" Bodi joined in. "Your hair already looks like a nest—ready-made for it to move in."

They continued to jest and laugh and everything was merry once again. Amichen didn't speak much—she was content to listen—but that didn't seem to bother anyone. She noticed that Naissus often fell into silence, too, letting Rodger and the others keep up the banter without him.

She couldn't believe she had only known them for a day; it felt as if she had known all of them for years. Maybe her mother was right; maybe the people of Hyrule were her kindred souls. She certainly enjoyed being in their company. They were good people and good-natured. If she could just keep Hashin pouting in the tent for the rest of the trip, everything would be fine.

When it began to grow dark, Naissus escorted her to her tent. "Goodnight," he said. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight," she responded. Then, suddenly feeling shy, she ducked into the tent.

Hashin was sitting up on a pallet on the floor, looking expectant.

Inwardly, Amichen sighed. Then she decided that she needed to do as Naissus said and be firmer with Hashin. Even if she couldn't control the older woman, maybe she could at least keep from being walked over.

"So, what did Mother have to say?" Amichen asked as she walked across the tent. There was a small wooden cot with rope webbing set up for her. A thin feather mattress and covers were already on it, along with one of the silken pillows from the litter.

"Your mother?" Hashin asked, sounding confused.

"Yes. I'm sure you tattled to her, so what did she have to say?" Amichen tried to sound braver than she felt; inside, she was already cringing.

Hashin didn't even try to deny it. "She had no words for you."

Amichen loosened her corselet so she could pull it off over her head. Hashin didn't even offer to help, but Amichen preferred it that way.

"Are you saying she was so mad, she couldn't speak?" Amichen asked, keeping her voice even and showing no worry.

She wiggled out of the corselet.

"No. She just had nothing to say to you."

Amichen's worry began to turn to curiosity. She turned to face Hashin. "So . . . she had nothing at all to say about what happened?"

Hashin actually looked away.

"You didn't tell her what happened," Amichen deduced.

"No, I did," Hashin said reluctantly.

"I can't believe my mother didn't have an opinion on the matter. She has an opinion on _everything_."

Hashin sighed unhappily. "She said I was to stay out of your business."

Amichen didn't think she could have possibly heard that correctly. "She . . . said what?"

"She said I was to stay out of your business—within reason," Hashin added.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you are free to court the prince—or any of the others—as you see fit, so long as you're not seen to be too loose. I am to make sure that everyone knows we have standards and expectations. In that way, if you do end up compromising yourself, we will have grounds for our anger and demands that you be honorably married. If we're seen to be too permissive, then they may argue that honor and chastity don't mean anything to us, except when they can buy us a marriage."

Amichen took in everything she said. "But that _is_ the case, isn't it? Mother doesn't care what I do, so long as I get married."

Hashin just shrugged. "My job is to help you do that . . . by whatever means necessary."

Amichen began pulling off robes. "Well, I have no intention of dishonoring myself if I can help it. And, at the moment, I don't see any reason to stoop to such desperate measures. So you need not butt in."

"Yes, Your Highness." Hashin sounded like she was going to choke on the words. But Amichen had no sympathy for her; instead, she felt rather victorious.

She stripped down to her linen chemise and got into bed. With a show of great reluctance, Hashin got up and began to fold Amichen's clothing and put it into her clothes chest.

Amichen watched her idly. "Out of curiosity, how many times did you talk to Mother today?" she asked.

Hashin didn't look at her. "Why?"

Amichen opened her mouth to explain herself, but then decided on a different course. "Because I asked. How many times did you talk to Mother today?"

"Twice."

"You told her about me riding, didn't you?"

"Yes." She was definitely going to choke to death on her words any minute.

"I noticed you quit protesting. Is that because Mother told you to?"

Hashin pursed her lips, but didn't answer.

Amichen wasn't going to let her get away quite that easily. "I'm right."

Hashin stood up on her tiptoes and blew out the lantern that hung from the central support pole. "It's late, Your Highness. You need your sleep. You will find riding tires you quickly."

Amichen lay on her back, staring at the dim white canvas overhead. She wasn't sure what to make of her mother taking her side for once—and especially against the very woman she had sent to keep her in line.

Or _was_ that her intent? What if she had only sent Hashin so that she could keep tabs on what was happening and give the enterprise a veneer of respectability without _actually_ inducing any respectability?

And what was she to make of the fact that her mother seemed so desperate to marry her away? She obviously wanted her out of the kingdom; choosing a husband within it had never been mentioned—even though it was common for Shi-Ha royals to marry within the kingdom.

Was it because she was an embarrassment to the royal family and best hidden away in some distant place, or did her mother really think that she would be happiest in Hyrule?

Come to think of it, there had never been a mention of looking to Erenrue for a marriage partner, either, even though it made more sense to renew their political alliance with them than Hyrule. Even though the two old enemies had buried the hatchet long ago, distrust lingered through the generations. A marriage to the Erenrue royal family would help soothe that distrust.

Hyrule, by contrast, had always been neutral—or close to it. The only time Hyrule had openly sided with Erenrue was when General Sho had led a coup that overthrew Shi-Ha's Counsel, and then he tried to invade Erenrue. Link and Zelda, though, marched up with the Hyrulian army and helped defeat him. Then they went to Shi-ha and helped put the government back together.

Hyrule and Shi-Ha had never been really close, but they had good ties—certainly better than those Shi-Ha had with Erenrue.

So why not marry into Erenrue? Was it because no one there wanted her—even though they had nearly as many nobles and princes to spare as Hyrule—or was it really because her mother thought Hyrule would be best for her?

She fell asleep while thinking about it, and even in her dreams, she was still trying to figure it out.


	3. Stargazing

In the middle of the night, someone gently shook her awake.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"Shh . . ."

It took a moment to blink her bleary eyes into focus and see Naissus' face close to hers. He put his finger to his lips, then glanced over to where Hashin still slept.

Amichen looked at him curiously. He gestured for her to come with him, then he rose and left the tent.

Growing even more curious—and feeling a little thrill of sneaking out behind Hashin's back—she got up, slid her feet into her shoes, and pulled the blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cloak. Then she stepped outside to find Naissus waiting.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"Come with me." He took her by the hand and they circled around the tents and the dark encampment. The only sign of life was the sound of a few different people snoring rather discordantly.

They walked down the slope, away from the encampment—Amichen walking rather gingerly as the grass was wet with dew and it began to soak into her cloth shoes.

They stopped in the middle of the field; when Amichen turned to look back, she could barely make out the dark outlines of the tents on the rise above them.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

Naissus took her by the shoulders and turned her around, so she was facing down the slope. "Look up," he said.

She did as he said, then suddenly gasped.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered close to her ear.

She slowly revolved around on the spot, trying to see everything at once. Naissus had to take her by the hand to keep her from stumbling down the slope; she wasn't watching where she was going.

"So many stars!" she gasped. "I've never seen so many."

"The lights in a city can make it harder to see the really small ones," he explained.

"And the sky is so big," she said, spreading her arms, forgetting that she was wearing nothing under the blanket but a thin chemise. "I've never been able to see all of it from our courtyard."

She spent several more minutes staring up in awe until her neck began to hurt. She ended up spreading the blanket out on the ground—it was really too dark for Naissus to see anything scandalous anyway—and they lay down and looked up together.

"It's been a bit cloudy all evening," Naissus said. "But when the clouds moved out, and I could see all the stars, they made me think of you and I wanted to be sure you saw them, too."

She smiled. "But whatever were you doing out so late? It feels like it's very late—or very early in the morning."

"It's probably one or two o'clock in the morning," he agreed. "It's my turn to keep the watch, so that's why I'm up."

"What are you watching for?"

He looked at her as if trying to decide if she was joking or not. Then he laughed a little, as if she was silly. "Whatever may come along to harm us—wild animals, bandits . . . whatever."

"Do you think something would attack us?" she asked. She hadn't thought about the road being dangerous. Crime was somewhat rare in Shi-Ha; the nobles policed their lands vigorously and most crimes carried the death penalty, which was a pretty effective deterrent. Of a much greater concern were the on-again, off-again feuds among the various noble factions. If you weren't part of one, you were perfectly safe. If you were involved in any way, however, gods help you; the attacks against people and property were quite brutal and the perpetrators were considered heroes, not criminals, to the people on their side. But as the Royal Family was considered completely untouchable, Amichen had never worried about her safety.

"It's a possibility," Naisuss replied. "There's an especially rough patch south of the Lost Woods that's something of a no-man's land between Hyrule and Shi-Ha. Bandits who flee to escape justice tend to congregate there. Why do you think I brought along the others?"

"I hadn't considered it, really," she admitted. "You talk like the lot of you often travel in search of adventures, so I would have thought that it would be natural for your cousins to come with you to Shi-Ha—to keep you company on the road, if nothing else. And . . . maybe to show Hyrule's prestige by sending so many lords—and a duke—with you."

"They're not here because we want to show off," Naissus replied. "If they had had no rank at all, I would have still brought them with me. And while I do enjoy their company on the road, the main reason why they're with me is because I wanted a group large enough to scare away any trouble or to tackle it, if it's bold.

"Even the men we have with us who are handling the baggage aren't mere servants; they're squires, training to become Knights of Hyrule, and, actually, they're pretty near the end of their training. They're as adept with a sword as the rest of us."

Amichen was surprised. "Is that why you cooked your own supper, then? Because they're not really servants?"

"No. I mean, if I asked them to fix supper for us, they would. Rodger and I are both knights; they would do anything we asked. But, really, we're just used to doing for ourselves. Normally, when we go hunting or traveling, we don't take anyone with us. But I didn't know how much baggage you might bring with you, and since we were traveling out of kingdom, I thought it prudent to bring along a few more swordsmen."

"So you planned this trip? Not your parents?"

"Well, they initiated the discussion with your mother, of course, but it was up to me to decide how to get to Shi-Ha and back, what I would do there, and so forth—just like my decision to marry is my own."

"How does that work? I mean . . . what if you want to marry someone your parents don't approve of? What if she's common-born?"

He shrugged a little. "It's not really a big deal. The heir-apparent is supposed to marry a Hylian, but that's custom, not law; I suppose my parents would have allowed it if Talent wanted to marry a human girl. Other than that, though, we don't have a lot of rules—or even customs—regarding who we marry."

Amichen rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him. "But . . . what if your parents want an alliance with someone . . . like Shi-Ha? I assume they want one, and that's why they began discussions with my mother. But what if you decide against me? What will they do about their alliance then?"

"Well, for one thing, we generally care about our children more than our alliances. Of course, this is peacetime, so it's easy to flippant with alliances; I can't say if that would hold true if we were at war or relations between us and another kingdom were tense.

"But it's not like we're exactly short on royals, either. All of my brothers are married, but I still have two unmarried sisters and plenty of cousins. Everyone on this trip, in fact, is still single. If you and I didn't work out, there's no shortage of nobles of royal blood my parents might offer to Shi-Ha if they were really keen on having an alliance."

"But . . . would _they_ be required to marry?"

"No, although don't think that a sense of duty wouldn't factor into the decision to accept or not. At the very least, you seriously consider any proposal made by the king and queen." Then he smiled. "But why should that worry you? How many men do you think would turn you down? You're still working on your first choice. And working quite well, I might add."

Before she could puzzle out what he meant, he leaned in and, placing his hand softly on her cheek, gently kissed her.

She felt heat rush down through her body, then back up, making her skin tingle from her hair all the way to her toes.

Then, just as soon as it had begun, it was over with. She found herself staring into his light eyes, which reflected the starlight above.

She was at a complete loss for words.

"I wouldn't marry you against my better judgment," he said quietly, "but I also know my parents didn't send me on a fool's errand. Apparently they heard something about you that made them think that you might be a good match for me. And, as of right now, their instinct is proving to be true."

She didn't know how to respond. She wanted to tell him that he made her feel things that no one had ever made her feel before, but the truth was, no one had ever tried. But then, wasn't it enough that he wanted to try?

He seemed to understand her silence, and rather than chastise her for it or demand a response—as her mother would have done—he simply rolled onto his back and looked up at the stars again. After a moment, she did the same.

"Is 'Amichen' what everyone calls you at home?" he asked, quite out of the blue.

"Yes. Why?" she asked, confused.

"I was just wondering. It's a bit of a mouthful."

"And Naissus isn't?"

He chuckled. "It is. That's why my family and friends usually call me 'Suss.'"

She tried to suppress a giggle, but it didn't work.

"Yeah, not the best nickname in the world," he admitted unflinchingly. "But my sister, Marie, was so young when I was born, she couldn't pronounce my name properly, so she started calling me 'Suss' and it just sort of stuck."

"My sister did the same thing; I can remember her calling me 'Ami,' when we were little."

"'Ami' is a nice nickname; very pretty."

"You may call me that, if you want to," she said shyly.

"And you may call me 'Suss.'"

She couldn't help but giggle again. "Maybe not."

"Or not," he said with a smile. "Whichever you prefer. I think I might answer to anything you wanted to call me."

She blushed in the darkness, feeling pleased and rather warm again.

"The sky is so big," she said, turning her attention back to the stars. "It makes me feel so small."

"'Who is man that the gods should think of him?'" Naissus quoted.

"Who indeed." She looked at him again. "Why do you think the gods have an interest in us?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think we have something they can never have."

"What?" she asked, surprised. Didn't the gods have everything?

"They don't have mortality."

She actually snorted—although she didn't mean to. "Why is the ability to die a good thing?"

He looked at her. "Because the fear of death makes you really live. Otherwise, you would take life for granted. Everything would always be the same.

"But we're constantly racing against time. We have to snatch our pleasures when we can. We have to have children while we can. We have to invent and create and pass on our knowledge while we can."

Amichen pressed her lips together. "I will die even sooner than most people."

"It's my understanding that humans now live longer than they used to because they have so much Hylian blood, but it's true that, in the ordinary course of events, you won't live as long as me."

She steeled her nerve. "Does that bother you?" she dared to ask.

"If it did, I wouldn't have come all the way to Shi-Ha to see you."

She didn't respond. She just hoped he knew what he was getting into. It was easy not to worry about death when they were young and had their whole lives ahead of them; it would feel very different when she was aging before his eyes and sliding rapidly towards a death that wouldn't strike him for another hundred years.

"Think about it this way," Naissus said, when she didn't say anything: "if we are destined to be together, then it doesn't matter if you're human or not; I would be miserable with someone else, and so would you. If we are meant to be together, your humanness will be irrelevant.

"And look at Zelda and Link," he added; "she didn't hesitate to marry him, even though he was common," he pointed out.

"That's not nearly as important as the fact that I'm going to die much sooner than everyone else," Amichen argued.

"Is this a subtle hint that you don't want me to pursue you? If it is, just tell me outright so I won't get my hopes up. I will still escort you to Hyrule and you can see all the sights and maybe find someone else that suits you, if you like."

"That's not what I meant at all," she said, flustered.

He took her by the chin and turned her to look at him. "Then it doesn't matter."

"But—"

"Ami, I'm not a stupid man; I can weigh the pros and cons for myself."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were. It's just . . ."

"You don't feel good enough because you've never been good enough for anyone else, is that it?"

She was a bit stunned that he could understand her so quickly. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

He smiled. "Well, either my standards are different than those in Shi-Ha, or they're just fools—take your pick—because who you are seems good enough to me. And if you aren't meant for me, then it's through no fault of your own."

She sighed a little and laid back against the blanket. She had never met anyone like Naissus before and she was almost positive that she was already in love with him, but she couldn't be sure—having never felt love before. But she had read about it, and she was pretty sure that she _was_ in love.

At some point, Naissus shook her gently and she was suddenly startled to realize she had been asleep.

"You should probably go back to bed," he said quietly. "You're falling asleep."

"I think 'fell asleep' is a more accurate description," she said, sitting up.

He helped her stand and put the dry side of the blanket around her shoulders again, then they slowly walked back up the hill to their camp.

Naissus yawned. "I think it's time for me to turn the watch over to Walcott anyway."

"How do you know when it's the next person's turn if you don't have any sort of clock?"

"You guess. Either that, or you just stay up for as long as you can, then you wake up the next person. Ideally, we cycle through all nine of us in one night, so that's only about forty-five minutes for each man, but since we can't keep accurate time, we tend to vary. If we don't make it through everyone tonight, then the next person on the list will start out tomorrow night. I may not have a watch at all tomorrow if my turn doesn't come around again."

"I'll take a turn, if someone will come wake me up."

He smiled. "Ami, we're keeping a watch, in large part, to make sure that you stay safe. It's counter-productive to leave you sitting out here alone at night. Someone or something could come along and snatch you away and we'd never know it."

She frowned. She had never been interested in weapons or swordplay before, but now she could see how it could be useful.

"Well . . . I could at least keep someone company," she offered.

"How about me?"

"Alright."

They stopped outside her tent and he smiled at her. "Next time I have to watch," he whispered, "I'll come for you."

She smiled, feeling a rush of heat again. "Alright."

"But it won't be tonight, so get some rest." He lifted her hand to his lips and, while looking at her with an impish grin that would have made Rodger proud, he slowly pressed his lips to her hand.

"Goodnight," he said, slowly lowering her hand with great reluctance.

"Goodnight," she said breathlessly. And then, unable to withstand him looking at her like that, she ducked inside the tent before she grew so hot, she melted into a big puddle of goo.

She fairly floated to her bed and lay down again, but it took forever before her heart stopped racing so she could fall asleep.


	4. One of the Boys

By the time morning dawned, the clear night had given way to heavy gray clouds. "It looks like we're in for rain," Naissus said as they hastily ate the leftovers from supper.

"What will we do?" Amichen asked.

He laughed. "We'll move on, of course."

"Even in the rain?"

"It's spring; if we only traveled when it's dry, it might take us months to get home."

She looked at him curiously. "You're anxious to get home, aren't you?"

"By the time we get home, we'll have been gone nearly a month. And in that time, we'll have had only one night off the road. That's a long time to go without a proper bed and a hot bath and a full meal. Even when we go out hunting and exploring, we rarely go more than a week without spending a night indoors."

"I'm sorry; my mother was very rude not to let you stay longer."

He waved away her concern. "It's just as well; I'd prefer to be home."

Amichen didn't know what it was like to want to go home so badly. She had only ever been away once, and that was with the rest of the court, so it wasn't like she was away from anything, really. Here was Naissus, far from home and eager to get back, and she felt she couldn't care less if she ever went home again. Maybe her homesickness would kick in later, once the newness wore off, but . . . what if it didn't? What did that say about her and her home if she didn't miss it?

Amichen watched as all of the men broke camp with quick efficiency. She was, frankly, a little amazed to watch Naissus, along with Duke Rodger and the other young men—lords all of them—do the dirty work and heavy lifting, the same as the squires. In fact, there didn't seem to be any division of labor between any of them; Naissus was just as likely to do a hard, dirty chore as the youngest squire.

Amichen had never seen noblemen act that way before.

While the baggage horses were being loaded, Naissus and Arlen tacked up the riding horses.

"Do you want to ride today?" Naissus asked as he picked up a saddle and put it on the back of the gelding Amichen had been riding the day before.

"Yes . . . at least for a little while," she qualified. Her legs were not quite as sore as they had been, but she didn't know how long that would last.

He tightened the girth on the saddle, then helped her get on. He handed her the reins. "Do you feel comfortable going it alone today, or do you want me to put the lead on?"

"I think I'll be fine," she said, feeling much more confident than she had the day before. The horse was everything he had promised it to be, and like her litter horses, it seemed content to walk alongside all the other horses and do whatever they did; she really didn't need to control it.

He smiled at her and she was glad she had made that choice. He almost certainly wouldn't have thought less of her if she had said she wanted the lead, but he clearly appreciated her courage.

That seemed to be the way to impress him—to be courageous. That impressed people in Shi-Ha, too, but they had much higher standards. For them, bravery had to do with martial and equine prowess. Other forms of courage were so small as not to be worth noticing. But what was nothing to someone else was a big step for her, and Naissus seemed willing to judge her on her own scale—not compare her to others. And she appreciated that—to the point that, for the first time in her life, she wanted to try to do more.

Naissus tacked up his own horse, then gave her the reins. "Hold him for me for a minute," he said, before hurrying off to help with the last of the packing. Only when everyone else was mounted and ready to go did he get onto his own horse.

"Thank you," he said, taking his reins from her and starting down the road. Amichen rode at his side and everyone else fell in behind them. As they had the day before, the others maintained a polite distance so that Amichen and Naissus could speak privately.

"May I ask you a question?" Amichen asked quietly.

"Certainly," Naissus replied.

"You said last night that all of you are used to doing for yourselves—without the help of servants—but . . . why?"

He considered her question for a minute. "I . . . never stopped to think why," he admitted. Then he shrugged. "We just do."

"Is everyone in Hyrule like that?"

"I take it you mean other noblemen?" She nodded. "I can't speak for _everyone_ , but I certainly think some people are. We're not seen as odd, if that's what you're getting at."

"Yes, I guess that's what I wanted to know."

He shrugged again. "I guess, for some of us, it comes from our training as knights. When we're about nine years old, we're sent out, in groups of three, to spend three days alone with a limited amount of supplies and equipment. If you don't supplement your supplies with some hunting and gathering, you'll go hungry.

"Later, around the age of fifteen or sixteen, we go out alone for a week with only one day's food and water and nothing but a knife and a bow and arrows and we're expected to keep ourselves alive and fed without any help of any kind—not even contacting someone telepathically to ask for advice.

"I guess, once you've lived through that—not to mention the training that leads up to it—you're not so particular about working with your hands and doing for yourself.

"Rodger and I are the only knights here—although Walcott did train with us up until he was about twelve—but the others have always joined in when Rodger and I wanted to do anything. All of us started hunting together when we were about fourteen or so because Rodger and I wanted to practice before we had to do our trial. So even though they didn't get all of the training, they learned from us.

"I think, if you spend a lot of time around other knights, you'll find that they're similar to us. Like I said, once you're trained to be completely self-sufficient, you never forget that. In fact, I think you have to do for yourself sometimes, just to make sure you don't grow too complacent and forget what you know."

It began to sprinkle around mid-morning, bringing an early end to Amichen and Naissus' conversation.

"You may want to get in your litter," he said. "It may drizzle off and on all day, or it may decide to rain in earnest; you never can tell on days like this."

They paused briefly while Amichen moved from her horse to the litter. As she stretched out in it, she couldn't feel too disappointed about having to be confined in it again; it hadn't taken much riding for her legs to get sore again.

The drizzle turned into a steady, gentle rain and the day grew cooler instead of warmer. Amichen ended up closing the second set of curtains—the heavy canvas ones—to keep the rain out and her body heat in. Between them and the overcast day, the inside of the litter was almost as dark as night.

"Amichen?" Naissus' voice startled her awake. She hadn't realized she had dozed off.

She pulled back the curtains and saw him riding alongside the litter. He had put on a heavy wool cloak and had the hood pulled up, trying to keep warm and keep the rain out of his face. "Yes?" she asked.

"We're not going to stop for lunch. But we'll stop early tonight, since we'll lose our light early."

One of the others rode up—she couldn't tell who it was, because his face was likewise covered by his hood—and he passed a plate to Naissus.

Naissus passed it down to Amichen. "A little something to tide you over," he said.

Amichen retreated back into the litter and closed the curtains against the rain, which was starting to fall harder. In the dim light, she ate a cold—and slightly wet—meal of leftover rabbit and a biscuit that was so hard, she had to gnaw on it with her back teeth.

Once that was finished, though, there was nothing to do but lie in the darkness and be bored. Occasionally she heard voices—even laughter—but for the most part, it was quiet outside except for the sound of the rain and the sounds of horses on the move. Like an unwanted guest, the rain had thoroughly ruined their party.

Eventually, Amichen nodded off again. Sometime later, though, a loud knock on her litter startled her awake.

"Are you still alive in there?" Naissus asked.

"Yes," she replied, sitting up and trying to hurriedly smooth her disheveled hair. "Although it was touch-and-go for a little while. I really thought I was going to die of boredom."

She heard him laugh. "Well, we've got the solution to that, if you want to get out."

She pushed the curtains back and found that they had led her litter right up to the door of one of the tents. Naissus was standing in the pouring rain, holding the tent flap back. She only had to take one step to get from the litter to the inside of the tent.

Of course, it was raining so hard, it looked like that one step was through the curtain of a waterfall. But Amichen had no intention of spending the night in her litter, so she dashed out and ended up in the tent laughing and wiping the rain from her face, but on the whole, she wasn't much wet.

"I knew we had too much luck with the weather on our way here," Rodger said, as he offered Amichen a dry blanket.

"Was it nice then?" she asked, wrapping it around her.

"Very. It only rained on us a couple of times, and even then, it was light—more a drizzle than anything. Now, it seems, it's finally decided it's spring."

Amichen took a seat on a wooden box while the others began to prepare dinner. They had a small metal brazier in the center of the tent filled with what looked like nuggets of charcoal. The fire was small and Amichen had to sit close to feel any heat. The charcoal put off much less smoke than regular firewood did, but the tent slowly became smoky anyway—to the point that Amichen's eyes began to sting and water.

Walcott set up a tripod over the fire and hung a pot of some sort of pottage—it looked like bits of meat and vegetables in barley—from it.

A moment later, the flap of the tent opened and Naissus came in from taking care of Amichen's horses. "Gods, I couldn't be any wetter if I jumped into Lake Hylia."

He shrugged off his woolen cloak and rolled it up. Then he began to wring water out of it. Water gushed out onto the grass.

"Look at this," he said, clearly affronted.

"Mine was just as bad," Rodger said.

"Ridiculous!"

When he could finally wring no more water from the wool, he hung it up and spread it out against one of the walls to dry. The cloaks of the other five men were likewise spread out, making a near-perfect ring of wet woolen fabric. It would help insulate the tent a little as the rain brought in colder weather, but they—along with the wet ground underneath—caused the air inside the tent to become very muggy.

Naissus fiddled with the top of the doorway panel until he had a small open gap in it about the size of his fist. That let out some of the smoke, but it didn't help alleviate the dampness.

"Please tell me we have dry clothes," Naissus asked.

Rodger pointed him to a box against the far wall.

Naissus crossed the tent, taking his belt off in the process. Before Amichen could look away, he pulled off his tunic and undershirt in one motion and she got an eyeful of his naked upperbody. He was a little on the thin side, but very well-muscled. His skin was so white, he seemed to glow in the dim orangey-yellow light cast by the fire. But standing in stark contrast to his paleness was a black tattoo of some sort of strange, stylized bird that stretched across his back from shoulder to shoulder.

"What's that?" she asked him.

He turned around and seemed almost surprised to see her there—as if he had forgotten he wasn't alone with his male companions.

"What's what, Your Highness?"

"That mark on your back."

"Oh, that." He turned back to his clothes, peeling his wet undershirt away from his tunic. "It's the crest of the Knights of Hyrule."

Rodger sat down on a box beside Amichen. "Let me tell you about that—about what Suss did to me."

Naissus chuckled a little, but didn't look up as he draped his wet clothes over spare boxes.

"Every knight has that tattoo," Rodger explained, "but there's no requirement about where you put it or what size it is. Most men get it here," he tapped his chest, over his heart, "or on the arm," he said, pointing to his upper arm. "I've seen women with it on the arm, on the inside of their wrist, or even on the back of the neck. But fairly small."

"Suss and I came up through training together, but he got knighted right before me. And after he had his vigil and got knighted, they asked him where he'd like his tattoo. And he said, "On my back." And they asked him, "How big do you want it?" And he said, "All the way across. I want one like Link's.

"Lo and behold, I was knighted a couple of weeks later. And when they took me to get my tattoo, I told them that I wanted one like Suss', because, of course, I had to do what he did. I knew if I opted for a smaller tattoo, he'd give me a hard time about it for the rest of my life."

Rodger cast an accusing glance at Naissus—who was still carefully not making eye-contact. "That little shit didn't bother to tell me how much it hurt—or that it was so large, it took _days_ to finish it. I threw up two separate times while I was getting it!"

Amichen put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh at Rodger's indignation. She could see that Naissus was trying not to laugh as well.

"I can't help it if you have a weak stomach," Naissus replied.

"My stomach is not weak!" Rodger said defensively. "That's the most excruciating pain a man can go through, short of having a limb hacked off."

"I didn't throw up."

Rodger ignored him, turning back to Amichen. "Naissus _also_ failed to mention to me that Link's tattoo was done by magic. I lay there for days, thinking that if Link could suffer the intense pain of being pricked by needles thousands of times, so could I. It wasn't until after I was done that Naissus mentioned that Link never went through that!"

Naissus finally laughed aloud. "Why was it my job to tell you that?" he asked, turning to Rodger. "You had access to the same information as I did—the same books."

"You know you're the scholar. You've always known more than most."

"So? I still don't see why it was my job to tell you. Besides, would it have made a difference? You've already admitted the real reason why you did it was so that you could compete with me."

"Yeah, and my point is that you _knew_ that I would compete with you. I think you got the biggest one possible just so you could laugh at my suffering when I did the same thing."

" _I_ put myself through days of pain _just_ to make _you_ suffer, too?" Naissus asked incredulously.

"If I didn't get the tattoo, then you could lord over me about how small and weak mine was. But if I did get it, then I'd have to suffer. It was a win-win situation for you."

"Rodge, you're off your rocker." Naissus pulled some dry clothes out of a box. "For your information, I got this for _me_ ; it was what _I_ wanted. I can't help it if your ego demanded that you get the same thing in an attempt to prove you're as much a man as I am."

Amichen listened to their back and forth with both of her hands over her mouth, valiantly holding in her giggles; it was the funniest thing she thought she had ever heard. The others, though, went about their work as if they had heard this argument before—which they almost certainly had.

It finally ended with Rodger pretending to be in a huff and some of the others rolling their eyes.

Despite the rain, the smoke, the creeping cold, and the uncomfortable mugginess in the tent, the group had an even better time than they had the evening before. Whether because of the queen's admonitions, or just because of the deluge, Hashin never came in to check on them and Amichen gradually became bolder. When someone got out a leather bottle full of liquor and passed it around—ostensibly to help everyone "warm up"—Amichen took a swig the same as all of the men.

It was so strong, it caused her to cough, which, in turn, made the others to laugh. "That's a bit stouter than wine," she said, alternating between coughing and laughing at herself.

"Here," Rodger said, offering the bottle back to her. "You need another swig to wash the first one down."

Amichen laughed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does. Trust me."

She took another drink. It burned, but it did seem to go down smoother and she stopped coughing.

"See, what did I tell you?" Rodger said, before taking the bottle from her and taking his own big gulp.

"You are very wise in the way of spirits," Amichen agreed.

The bottle went around several more times as they all talked and told stories. Then Arlen pulled out some dice and suggested they gamble.

"I don't have anything to bet," Amichen said as the others eagerly dug coins from their purses. How odd to be a princess and not even have a coin of her own! But she had never had to pay for anything herself, so she had never had a need to carry money. In fact, in Shi-Ha, money was viewed by the nobility as something dirty—despite the fact that they were always trying to get more of it. When they went to buy something, they got it on credit and then the merchant sent a bill for it later. An accountant would pay for it and the lord need never dirty his hands with the transaction. Even if someone had a need to carry money—like when they traveled—they had a servant who carried the purse and paid for everything.

But apparently it was no shame to carry money in Hyrule because all of the young men seemed to have some.

"Here, I'll lend you something to play with," Naissus offered, reaching into his pouch again. But Rodger brushed him aside.

"You will not," he said with feigned indignity. "I'm her man; _I_ will back her wagers."

Naissus nodded and put his money back into his pouch without argument. Amichen was a little surprised; she would have expected Naissus to insist on paying, since he was the one courting her, but apparently Rodger's claim to Amichen—in this case, anyway—trumped even a princely suitor.

She wondered why Naissus hadn't offered to be her man as well. Perhaps it wasn't something that was done between two people who might get married? It would certainly be redundant if she married him; of course her husband would stick up for her.

Or maybe he didn't want to overshadow Rodger or do anything to diminish his relationship with Amichen. Another man might have been jealous that a handsome flirt was eager to be good friends with his potential fiancée, but Naissus didn't seem to be the jealous type. Or maybe he just trusted his friends not to poach.

It was all very curious. People didn't often have close friendships in Shi-Ha—at least not among the nobility. People made alliances, but that wasn't the same thing as being friends. People allied with each other because it was expedient or a good political or financial move, but everyone understood that when fortunes changed, alliances could be broken as easily as they were made. So it was rare to trust someone who wasn't family—and not all family members were necessarily trusted.

That Naissus not only trusted Rodger with his potential fiancée, but seemed to approve—and even encourage—the two of them to have a friendship, was odd to Amichen. She liked the idea of having friends—especially after growing up without any—but it was still a foreign concept to her and it would take a little getting used to.

"Shall we play to the count?" Arlen asked, bringing her back to the matter at hand. "That's easy to play."

Everyone agreed.

"How do you play?" Amichen asked.

Arlen explained. "The person who has control of the dice calls the count and names the bet. So, for instance, I might say 'four in four.' That means that four is the number you want to hit, and you have four rolls in which to do it. Whoever rolls the most fours wins the pot and gets control of the dice.

"Normally, when you roll the correct number, you set that die aside and just roll with the remainder. But since there are so many of us playing, we'll keep all the dice in play so that we can reach a higher number of correct rolls; that reduces the number of ties."

"What happens if you tie?" Amichen asked.

"Then the people who tied will play another round to try and break the tie."

"I think I get it."

"It's really simple," he said. "It doesn't take any skill or strategy."

"In short," Rodger said, "a good game to play when you're drunk."

They pulled over a box so they could roll the dice on the lid. "Shall we roll to see who controls the dice?" Arlen asked.

Naissus waved it off. "They're your dice. You start."

"Alright, then, I'll call three in three and three is the minimum bet."

"That your lucky number, Arl?" Seymour asked, as he ponied up the required bet. Everyone else added their coins to the kitty.

"You know it is," Arlen said with a smile. Then he rolled.

But three apparently _wasn't_ his lucky number because Rodger won the round.

"What shall I call?" he asked Amichen, as he shook the dice in his hand.

"I don't know," she said, surprised that he would ask her opinion when she wasn't very familiar with the game.

"What's your lucky number?"

"I don't know that I have one. I've never gambled before."

"Really?" he asked, seeming surprised. "You haven't played cards or anything?"

She shook her head.

"What do you do for fun in Shi-Ha?"

"You assume we have fun," she replied, causing everyone to laugh. She didn't tell them, though, that she hadn't been joking—at least when it came to members of court. Politics was everyone's hobby of choice and they played it with deadly earnest.

"I thought theater was very popular in Shi-Ha?" Naissus asked.

"Oh, it is."

"Well, that sounds fun," Rodger said. But Amichen shook her head.

"Theater is serious."

"Really?" he asked, surprised again. "You don't do comedies or farces or anything?"

"No. Everything is a morality tale or a tragedy or religious in nature—or all three. They can be quite heroic and emotional, but they're not what I would call 'fun.'"

"So, you've never had any fun?"

Amichen thought about his question for a minute, searching her memory for anything that stood out as 'fun.'

"The court went to Olchi once when I was a little girl."

"And you had fun there?"

"I did—but that was just because I was getting to go somewhere new." She smiled. "I guess I like to travel."

"This summer, you will have to come to my estate in Summerfield and stay with me," Rodger said. "It's on the southern border of Lake Hylia; we can go swimming every day if we want, or riding, or hawking. And I always have a big party on Midsummer Day and everyone who is anyone comes. There are horse races and archery competitions and the knights have a tournament to see who's the best fighter. And then, that night, we have a masked ball and everyone dresses up in costumes and tries to guess who everyone else is. If someone guesses correctly, you have to take off your mask. Whoever is still masked at midnight gets a prize and then there's a big reveal so we can see who managed to fool us all night."

Amichen found herself leaning forward so eagerly, she was almost falling off her box. She had never heard anything that sounded so exciting before in her life.

"It sounds wonderful," she said.

"You will have to come and stay with me for a month. I'll show you how to have fun."

Amichen glanced at Naissus questioningly. He nodded to her.

"I will definitely come," Amichen said, turning back to Rodger.

Rodger smiled brightly. "Excellent. When we get back home, I'll make arrangements."

"I'm more concerned with having fun now," Arlen interrupted. "So roll already."

Rodger laughed. Then he looked at Amichen. "I think . . . I think you look like six is your lucky number. So I'll call six in six with six as the bet."

Rodger was obviously a bit of a seer, because six did seem to be Amichen's lucky number; she won the round.

She looked at Rodger as the dice were passed to her. "What should I pick?" she asked.

"Sixes seem lucky for you; bet on them."

She shook her head. "That wouldn't be fair to be in control of the dice and keep naming a number that I'll win with."

Naissus, sitting on her other side, laughed. "You have a lot to learn about gambling."

"Yeah," Bodi added, "the point is to win."

But Amichen called fives in four with a bet of three. Seymour won that round.

The bottle of liquor continued to make its way around the group and they became more boisterous. It became hard to roll the dice and keep them on top of the box; often they threw too exuberantly and rolled some off the top. It was decided that any that rolled off the box were a loss—they didn't count, even if the correct number landed up—so it actually did become something of a game of skill as everyone tried to keep their rolls entirely on the box.

"What would my mother say if she could see me now?" Amichen said, rattling the dice in one hand while she accepted the liquor bottle from Rodger again. "Two nights away from home and I'm gambling with a bunch of men, without a chaperone, and I'm pretty sure I'm drunk."

Naissus laughed. "When in Hyrule, do as the Hyrulians do."

Amichen knocked back the last of the liquor and set the bottle aside. "Yes, but we're still in Shi-Ha," she pointed out.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't."

Amichen laughed. The combination of the company and the liquor made her feel freer than she had ever felt before in her life. She felt as if she had spent all of her life wrapped up tightly in a smothering blanket, unable to breathe or even speak, but now her bonds had been stripped away and she was completely and utterly free.

She was starting to understand why her mother wanted her to go to Hyrule—although how her mother knew her so well when she didn't even know herself was a bit of a mystery. Naissus and the others—despite all of them being of the Blood Royal—were easy-going, unpretentious people. Maybe she would find court in Hyrule to be different, but she didn't think so; a petty, back-biting court surely couldn't produce so many jovial, good-natured young men. Surely the other people of Hyrule were like them: fun-loving and honest. She never had to wonder what Naissus and the others were really thinking or what they meant by their purposefully ambiguous words; there was never any attempt at secrecy or deception in any of them. They were as honest as the day was long. She didn't have to be guarded and careful.

Imagine trusting a group of foreign men she had only known a couple of days when she couldn't trust a single person at the court in Shi-Ha!

"What's your call?" Walcott demanded when Amichen stayed distracted by her thoughts too long.

"Oh. Six in six for six," she said.

"What happened to wanting to be fair and not use your lucky numbers?" Rodger asked as he ponied up his bet.

Amichen laughed. "I played with the lot of you. Now I'm not so concerned with being fair."

Everyone laughed.

Amichen pulled off her circlet and slapped it on top of the box. Then she rolled her hand. The circlet kept her dice from rolling off the box.

"Can you do that?" Walcott asked no one in particular.

"You didn't tell me I couldn't!" Amichen crowed triumphantly.

That sent Naissus and Rodger scrambling to their clothes boxes to fetch their regalia. When their turn came, they rolled inside their own crowns.

"That's not fair," Seymour wailed. "We don't have circlets," he said, gesturing to himself, Bodi, Arlen, and Walcott. They were lords by birth, but had no titles of their own yet, so they had no right to wear a circlet of rank.

"I'll tell you what," Amichen said, holding out her own crown, "I'll rent you mine. A rupee per turn."

Rodger laughed uproariously and put his arm around her, hugging her to his side like she was one of the other boys. "What ruthlessness!" he exclaimed with delight. "I love it!"

"What happened to our meek little princess?" Naissus asked. But he was smiling to show that he obviously didn't mind the change in Amichen.

"You ruined me—just like Hashin said you would," she said.

That elicited even more laughter from the assembly.

They had to quit playing when they broke Walcott and Seymour. "You've got everything we have," Seymour said.

"You still have clothes on," Rodger hinted.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Naissus hurried to say. "It's quite late."

Amichen counted out the seed money that Rodger had lent her and gave it back to him; she still had a respectable pile for herself. "Is it really?" she asked. She had been having such fun, she hadn't noticed the time passing.

"Yes."

"I guess I better go to bed then," she said reluctantly. She could only imagine how cold Hashin's reception would be; surely even the heavy rain hadn't drowned out their loud merrymaking. Hashin was sure to disapprove—especially if Amichen came staggering in late and smelling of liquor. That might push the old woman over the edge.

Bodi looked out the gap in the doorway. "I don't think you want to go out in this, Highness," he said. "It's still pouring down. He turned back to them. "I'm not even sure if we could _find_ your tent; it's blacker than pitch out there—like being in a cave."

"You can stay here," Naissus offered.

Amichen glanced around, as if expecting someone to tell her that she would do no such thing. But none of the others seemed scandalized by such a suggestion. In fact, they were all busy preparing their pallets for the night.

Amichen looked back at Naissus. "I . . . do you think I really should?"

"Are you afraid of any of us?" Naissus asked, perking a brow.

"No, but I am afraid of how it will look."

"I don't know what people in Shi-Ha know about the Knights of Hyrule," Rodger said, "but in Hyrule, no one would think anything of you spending the night with one of us—much less two of us."

"A knight's reputation is impeccable," Walcott concurred. "No one would ever suspect a knight of compromising a lady's reputation—nor of allowing anyone else do it in his presence."

"To do so would be a shame beyond shame," Rodger added. "You would be publically disgraced—dragged out in public, like a criminal, and your brother-knights would strip you naked and spit on you or strike you across the face, then your tattoo would be cut up so that it would be permanently scarred and everyone could see that you were a disgraced knight."

Amichen was horrified. "Has that ever happened?" she gasped.

"Not since the Order was reestablished," Naissus said. "But it did happen long ago."

"You're as safe here as if you were sharing a room with your brothers," Rodger added. "Naissus and I would die before we'd ever let something happen to you."

"Not that you have anything to fear from the rest of us," Arlen pointed out. "It's not like we're rogues waiting for Naissus' and Rodger's backs to be turned."

"Of course not," Naissus said quickly, as if wanting to reassure his other cousins that no offense was intended. " _I_ know Amichen is as safe with any of you as she is with me. I was only speaking of reputation, which they're prickly about in Shi-Ha. But not even they can claim any dishonor was done if one of us is around."

Amichen realized then that her mother's back-up plan wouldn't work. They obviously had different ideas about what constituted appropriate behavior between men and women in Hyrule, but there definitely was a line they would not cross. And if Rodger and Naissus' reaction to Hashin's accusations were any indication, the Knights of Hyrule had a certain amount of prickliness about their reputations, too. If her mother tried to press the "dishonored" claim, she might find herself receiving open hostility instead of a compliant son-in-law.

And Amichen vowed then and there that she would never settle for that sort of man. She didn't want a husband who wasn't in control of his desires and was so weak that her mother could bully him into marriage. Such a man would make an awful husband. She wanted someone like Naissus, who had refused to be pushed around by her mother, and whose honor was beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"I'll stay then," she announced.

They prepared a pallet on the ground for her. A wooden box was placed between it and the wall of the tent to keep drafts from coming under the edge of the tent and blowing directly on her.

"It's not as comfortable as your bed," Naissus said spreading a blanket out on the pallet. None of them even had pillows; they used their rolled up clothes to rest their heads on.

"It's fine," Amichen assured him.

"Let us know if you need anything," he said. Then he went to his pallet and got under the covers.

Amichen looked around the semi-circle of pallets arranged around the fire, a little shy about disrobing in front of so many men, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to her. Some had already rolled over and had their backs to the fire. Even Bodi, who was sitting alone on a box next to the fire, keeping the first watch, was busy stirring the embers.

Then it occurred to Amichen that it wasn't a coincidence that none of them were looking at her; they were purposefully trying to give her as much privacy as they could.

She hurriedly pulled off her corselet and robes and draped them over the box behind her bed. Then, wearing nothing but her thin chemise, she crawled under the covers.

Naissus was right; the pallet was much less comfortable than her rope cot with its feather mattress. The pallet was so thin, she was practically sleeping on the ground. But despite feeling very awake and a bit uncomfortable, the late hour and the alcohol quickly caught up to her and she fell asleep within minutes.


	5. Knights of Hyrule

Amichen was aware of being cold. She huddled into a little ball, trying to stay warm, but she lay in that position so long, she began to ache. When she rolled over, she lost her warm spot and ended up feeling colder than ever.

Then there was a weight placed on her and she immediately felt a little warmer.

She opened her eyes a crack. There was only a small amount of orange light coming from the brazier. But she was still able to make out Naissus leaning over her, spreading something over her. Around the semi-circle, the others seemed to be covered with an additional layer, too; it looked like it was their damp cloaks.

"It's cold," Amichen whispered.

"I know," Naissus said. "The wind's picked up and it's blowing very cold—like winter instead of spring. And the fire is dying down and we don't have any more charcoal or dry wood."

He tucked the cloak—it must have been his—around her tighter. "You should warm up now," he said. "This wool will keep you warm even if it's still a bit wet."

"What about you?" she asked.

"I can sit next to the fire."

"Are you keeping the watch?"

"Yes."

"I said I would keep it with you," she said, starting to rise. But he pushed her back down.

"Don't. Stay under the covers where it's warm," he said, pulling the blanket and cloak back over her shoulders. "You can stay up some night when it's warmer."

She was too tired to argue with him and she fell asleep within minutes. She was warm for a while, but she eventually ended up huddled into a little ball again, shivering.

"Amichen," someone said softly. "Are you very cold?"

She opened her eyes. The orange light of the fire was gone completely, but there was a dim blue light that indicated that dawn was coming. In the weak light, she could just make out Naissus' face.

"Yes," she said through chattering teeth.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he pulled back the covers—assaulting her with freezing cold air and causing her to shiver worse than ever—and crawled into the bed behind her. He put his arm around her waist and held her close to him. She could feel the cold of his clothes through her thin shift, but within minutes, his body heat warmed her to the point that she stopped shivering.

"Better?" he whispered, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. His hand was cold and she knew that he needed to get warm as much as she did.

"Yes."

They lay like that for a long time. Amichen wasn't able to go back to sleep, but surprisingly, it wasn't because of Naissus' presence. It was odd, but she felt very comfortable with him being so close, despite the compromising situation. If Hashin were to walk in at that moment, her head might very well explode. Certainly Amichen's mother would scream for her daughter's honor to be restored.

"You said no one would ever suspect a knight," Amichen said in a low voice. "But what would people think if they saw us now?"

"People in Hyrule or Shi-Ha?"

"Hyrule. I know what people in Shi-Ha would say."

He chuckled. "People in Hyrule would still not suspect me."

"Truly?"

"Truly." He chuckled again. "This is not even the first time that I've shared a blanket with a woman."

"Oh?" Amichen asked, curious . . . and maybe a touch jealous.

"When I was sent out on my first wilderness training test, I had two girls on my team. It ended up raining the entire three days and we spent most of our time huddled together in the little shelter we had built, trying to stay dry and warm."

"Are there many women knights?"

"Not many, no. One of those girls did become a knight, but the other one dropped out after that weekend; she decided she just didn't like it. They were the only ones I had in my class."

"And you had both of them on your team?"

Naissus laughed softly. "Yes. I can't tell you how jealous all the other boys were—especially Rodger. But I think I was more serious than the rest of the boys in my class, and I guess my instructor thought I would concentrate on what I was doing more than on the girls."

"And did you?"

"Right up to the point that I had one lying on either side of me," he laughed. "I may be pure in deed, but I'd be lying to you if I said that I didn't feel anything when I was wedged between two pretty girls that I knew and liked.

"I felt so guilty about it, I told my teacher when I got back, fully expecting to be taken before the class and shamed, but he just laughed at me. He told me that there's no such thing as a perfect knight because there is no such thing as a perfect man. But what sets knights apart from others is that they learn to control all of their base impulses so that as awful as their thoughts may be, they never act on any of them."

"What do you learn that other people don't?" Amichen said. "I mean, everyone knows that it's bad to do certain things, but some people do them anyway."

"Well, part of it is just the selection process. Boys who have behavior problems aren't selected for the training to start with. And anyone who has trouble controlling himself is weeded out as the training progresses. So you have a good crop of people to start with.

"Then we spend years living with one another and training, so we grow up together like brothers. And then, later on, when you progress to being a squire, an older knight will take you as his protégé—almost adopt you—and will personally monitor your progress and give you extra help, if you need it. He becomes like a second father to you and serves as your role model. And other knights will come in and teach certain lessons, so you get to know a lot of them, even if they're considerably older than you.

"And if you ever do anything dishonorable—like steal or lie or show cowardice—you are shamed by your teacher in front of all the other students and they will mock you. And woe be unto you if a girl ever complains that you led her on with false promises or tried to force her to do anything in any way. They'll call in a bunch of the knights and you'll get shamed by them—which is a hundred times worse than being shamed by your classmates.

"So, over time, you learn to master yourself simply because you don't want to lose the respect of the people who are most important to you. To be publicly denounced by your brothers becomes a fate worse than death. I mean, how could you live with yourself after that?"

Amichen felt him shudder, as if the mere thought caused him fear.

"In Shi-Ha, the knights are always competing with one another to see who is the best," Amichen said. "Those who are slower or less competent than the others are mocked. That spurs them to do better. But I don't know that they feel like a brotherhood; even after they're knighted, they're still competing with each other."

"We don't pit ourselves against each other like that," Naissus said. "If someone is lagging behind, then someone will work with him to get him caught up. If he can't be caught up, then he will be quietly released. We would never mock someone who tried, but failed. Moral failings are mocked, but never physical or mental failings. You may not have been born smart or strong—and that's no fault of yours—but there's no reason why you can't act with honor."

Yet again, Amichen found herself thinking of her mother and her prediction that Amichen would fit in better in Hyrule. Amichen had never been physically strong, and while she was intelligent and well-educated, she wasn't fast when it came to strategic thinking. She had a natural tendency to take everything at face value and she just didn't see when someone was maneuvering to get the upper hand on her. For the brief period of time she had been receiving military training, she had been consistently at the bottom of her class and an object of ridicule because she wasn't aggressive and ruthlessness enough.

And when those same people grew up, they entered court politics where they continued to compete and fight against one another, jockeying for position. There were certainly people who would not hesitate to throw her down if they could move up in the process. Even the Counselors were competitive, with each trying to prove that he was intellectually superior to his fellows and therefore deserving of more respect.

Amichen had always assumed that her mother was ashamed of her, and that's why she kept her largely out of sight and allowed everyone else at court to treat her as if she was a non-entity. But had she kept her daughter hidden to keep her from being hurt by people who would have used her to further their own goals? Was she really being sent to Hyrule—a place where she would be judged for her character instead of her ability to compete with others—for her own good?

She fell asleep while thinking about it and didn't wake up until someone exclaimed, "Well, I'll be damned! It snowed!"

Amichen startled awake, then looked over her shoulder. Bodi was standing at the entrance to the tent—his cloak wrapped tightly around him—looking out.

"Snow?" Rodger asked in disbelief.

"Come here and see."

Rodger got up—wearing nothing but his underwear and undershirt—and hurried over to the tent flap. "I can't believe it," he said as he looked out, as awestruck as Bodi.

"Does it usually snow this late in the spring?" Naissus asked Amichen.

She shook her head. "Not that I can remember."

Snow or no snow, though, Naissus was determined to push ahead, so all of the men quickly dressed—pulling on two layers of everything to guard against the unseasonable cold—then they went out to begin striking camp.

Amichen got up and, shivering against the cold air, she hurriedly put on her silk robes. She had just finished dressing herself when Hashin came hurrying in with more of Amichen's clothes.

"I don't know what's more shocking, the fact that it snowed, or that you stayed over here all night," Hashin said in a low voice as she began to add more layers to Amichen. "But your mother is pleased; she said you were right to go ahead and compromise yourself when you had the opportunity. If your prince doesn't want to marry you when we arrive in Hyrule, then your mother will demand restitution for your honor. So your marriage is guaranteed either way."

"You might want to inform my mother that her scheme won't work," Amichen said, her voice as icy as the air.

Hashin looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"No one in Hyrule will ever believe that I was disgraced last night. The Knights of Hyrule have such a reputation for honor, no one ever suspects them of committing misdeeds—even if they go so far as to share a bed with a woman."

Hashin looked at her in disbelief. "Surely people aren't that naïve."

"I don't think they're naïve; I think it's true."

Hashin laughed. "No man can share a bed a woman and not touch her."

"Naissus did."

"He lies."

"He couldn't possibly lie, because I was the one he slept with last night."

Hashin's jaw dropped and she stared in open-mouthed astonishment. "Y-you admit that you lay with him?"

"I admit that he and I shared a bed because it was cold. But he never dishonored me."

Hashin narrowed her eyes. "Maybe he is one of those who prefers men to women. He has many male companions who are very close to him . . ." she hinted.

"If that were the case, then he would not have any interest in me," Amichen retorted. "And yet he has intimated that he is quite interested in me.

"You just can't believe that he could be honorable because we have no honor in Shi-Ha," she added scathingly.

Hashin gasped at hearing such blasphemous words. But Amichen didn't care. She suddenly felt the need to get everything off her chest after years of suffering in Shi-Ha's culture.

"We say that it is honorable to excel, but we don't care if people get hurt in the middle of all the competition," she said. "That is not honorable; that is the opposite of honorable. Maybe striving for excellence was once noble, but we have corrupted it to the point that people will do anything to win. And we can no longer understand people who are not motivated by their own self-aggrandizement—people who will put others before themselves.

"That is why Naissus—or any other knight in Hyrule—can be with a woman and never touch her: they care more about her than they do about their own desire."

Hashin took a step back, looking at Amichen as if she had suddenly sprouted two heads. "I . . . I don't know who you are," she whispered. "To speak against your own people . . ." She shook her head.

"Why should I not?" Amichen said boldly. "My mother wanted me to learn to be Hyrulian—to understand and adopt their customs and their ways—because she didn't want me to come back to Shi-Ha.

"You can tell her that I am doing so, and if everyone in Hyrule thinks and acts as these young men do, then she need not worry; I will not be coming back."

Hashin continued to stare at her in horror, saying nothing.

Amichen waved her away. "You may go," she said imperiously. "Help the others pack up."

Hashin left silently and Amichen sat down on a box, huddled up in her multiple layers of thin silk, and tried to keep warm.

Naissus came in a short time later, his fair cheeks flushed pink from the cold. "Do you have a cloak or any winter clothing?" he asked. Amichen shook her head. "Then I think you better ride in your litter today and stay out of the wind; it's blistering cold."

He escorted her outside and the wind immediately assaulted her, nearly taking her breath away. All around them, the new green leaves and buds were coated in ice and a thin layer of snow lay on top of the ground. When Amichen took a step, she could feel the icy grass crunch beneath her shoes.

Naissus helped her into the litter, then covered her with several blankets. "If you get cold, we'll find some more blankets for you," he said.

"I'll be fine," she insisted.

She closed both sets of curtains on the litter and waited while the men broke the rest of the camp. Enclosed in the small space and covered with a couple of wool blankets, she was fairly comfortable. Only her feet were cold and seemed unwilling—or unable—to warm up.

Naissus stuck his head inside and checked on her about half an hour later. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"Yes—all but my feet."

"Do they hurt?" he asked, concerned.

"No, they're just cold. But I always have cold feet in the winter," she said dismissively. "I'm sure they'll be better when it warms up later in the day."

Naissus left again and Amichen expected that they would begin moving immediately, but five minutes dragged by without any indication that they were starting. Amichen assumed they weren't finished packing yet.

Then Naissus reappeared. "Think there's room enough in here for two?"

Before Amichen could figure out what he was talking about, he crawled into the litter with her. She was too shocked to speak as he jostled around, trying to get situated opposite her. It took some bumping and apologies before he finally managed to get himself propped up against the opposite wall, facing her.

"You know, this is smaller than it looks from the outside," he pronounced, as he adjusted the blankets so they covered his legs, too.

"I keep expecting you to fall out the other side," Rodger said from nearby.

"I am in here just fine, thank you very much," Naissus retorted. "It will take more than a litter to whip me."

"You mean like a porter's cart?"

"Shut up."

Rodger laughed. "Let's go," he called out. A moment later, the litter lurched and began to move.

"What are you doing?" Amichen asked, finally finding her voice.

"Since it's too cold for you to ride with me, I thought I might ride with you—at least for part of the day. After all, I don't want you to die of boredom before we get home."

The idea of the two of them being crammed into the litter together was so ridiculous, Amichen couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"What?" Naissus asked with a smile.

She shook her head. "I have to say, Naissus, you are . . . not like any man I have ever met before."

"Good," he said, sounding pleased. "I don't want to be like anyone else."

He slipped his hands under the blanket and Amichen felt him touch her foot.

"No wonder your feet are cold," he said, as his hands moved over her foot. "Don't you have any socks?"

"No. We don't wear socks at court."

"Why on earth not?"

She shrugged. "I don't know; we just don't. It's fashion, I suppose."

"There must be a lot of cold feet at the Shi-Ha court."

Amichen suddenly laughed. "Maybe that's what makes everyone so mean—they're mad because their feet are cold!"

"Is your court mean?"

"Yes. . . . Is yours not?"

"No."

"People are always jockeying for power in our court—always trying to outdo each other."

"We don't have that," Naissus said. "Of course, everyone in our court is related; we're all cousins or aunts or uncles to some degree."

"Maybe that's the secret," Amichen said. "There are people at our court who are related, but there are also others who aren't. They align themselves into factions. Usually there are three factions because there are three powerful families—besides the Royal Family—but sometimes there might be more factions if one more distant branch of the family breaks off and tries to establish themselves separately. So even in your family, you can't trust everyone."

Naissus shook his head. "No, we're all pretty closely-related. And a lot of times we're raised with our cousins as children so we grow up like siblings and it just becomes one big family."

Amichen thought about her mother disdainfully saying that the Hyrulian royals had children in "litters." But was there anything happier than a puppy in its litter? It had a ready supply of playmates, and when they were all worn out, they lay together in a companionable heap, watched over by their loving mother.

"There are sometimes people who try to be greedy," Naissus admitted, "but if they start trying to take more than is fair or bully others, the king will send them away from court. If they don't repent and mend their ways, then they find themselves ostracized permanently by everyone."

Amichen was fascinated by how often people in Hyrule used the threat of shame and ostracization to keep people from behaving badly. In Shi-Ha, people just fought with one another—a duel, if they were lucky, or a family feud bordering on a small war if they weren't.

Amichen felt Naissus remove her slipper, then he pressed her foot between his hands, slowly massaging warmth into it.

She felt a cold chill run down her spine and she was suddenly very glad that she could trust Naissus with her honor, because she wasn't entirely sure she could trust herself with it at that moment.

"So, tell me about your family," Naissus said, seemingly oblivious to the feelings he was causing inside her. "You've met a lot of mine already, but when we get to Hyrule, you'll meet my brothers and sisters and their spouses and children."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Nine. There are three boys, four girls, me, then two more girls." He laughed. "My father says that after three boys, my mother was praying for a little girl. But she prayed too hard."

Amichen chuckled. "Well, you met my family. There's only me and my sister, Tiger-Lin."

"Do you not have any cousins?"

"No. My mother was an only-child."

"And your father was, too?"

Amichen suddenly stiffened. Discussion about the princesses' parentage was strictly forbidden at court. The common people thought that the queen had been the lover of one of the gods and had miraculously conceived her children. The court knew better, but no one was allowed to talk about it, on pain of death.

And the queen could devise a very, very painful death.

Naissus noticed Amichen's sudden silence. "I'm sorry if speaking about him is painful for you. You don't have to, if you don't want to."

Amichen nervously licked her lips. "What . . . what did my mother tell you about my father?"

"Nothing; his name has never come up. I just assumed he must have died when you and your sister were very young and it was still a painful subject."

Amichen turned her head away, unable to look at Naissus' curious eyes. She wondered if she should tell him the truth. But if she didn't, and they ended up married, would she be any better than her mother who was so ready to say—or not say—things to manipulate people? How would a man who couldn't lie feel if he found out that his new bride had lied to him by omitting important information? What would he think about being married to a woman who was not honorable?

"If you were to ask Hashin who my father is, she would tell you that I'm the daughter of one of the gods—I can never remember which one it's supposed to be," Amichen said slowly. "That's what all the people in Shi-Ha think. Tiger-Lin's father was a god, too, but most people think it was a different one; that's why she and I are so different."

She dared to glance at Naissus. Was it just her imagination and the dim interior of the litter, or did he look pale?

"Who is he really?" he asked in a low voice.

"I don't know." She hesitated, but decided that if she was going to be honest, she needed to be _completely_ honest. "But I think I know who he is."

"Who?"

She swallowed and looked away again. "I overheard my mother say once that the reason that I'm . . . the way I am is that . . . that my blood was too common—that she should have picked someone better to sire me.

"And that's when I remembered something that I had never been able to explain. A few times in my life, I found myself passing by one of the palace guards and the man smiled at me. And I know it was always the same man, because even when I was little, I recognized how handsome he was. His face—and the fact that he smiled at me—stuck in my mind.

"After my mother said . . . what she said, I took to wandering the halls, looking for the man. It took me a couple of weeks, but I finally found him. And when I looked at him, he smiled at me again.

"Out of all that time I spent passing by the guards, not one of them smiled at me—they didn't even act like they noticed me; he was the only one whoever looked at me and smiled." She shrugged a little. "But maybe he's just friendly or likes children. Maybe his smile doesn't mean anything."

"But you think he is your father?" Naissus asked.

"I don't have any reason to think that," Amichen replied. "But . . . I feel that he is. His smile is always . . ." She searched for the right word. "Warm. He doesn't smile at me like I'm just a cute child; he looks like he's genuinely happy to see me. Maybe even . . . proud."

That was a strange concept to Amichen; no one had ever looked at her with pride before.

"Did you not ask him if he was your father?"

Amichen shook her head quickly. "I don't know what my mother would do to me if she knew I was searching for my father, but she might very well have him killed. I couldn't risk his life that way—not if he's an innocent man and especially not if he's my father."

Naissus gasped. "Surely she wouldn't."

"I've heard rumors that Tiger-Lin's father was a nobleman, but when he began hinting around court that she belonged to him, my mother had him executed. So, no, I wouldn't put it past her to kill my father as well—if he even still lives. I don't know. All I have is a guess about a man who has smiled at me a few times."

"But . . . why did your mother never get married and have children normally?" Naissus asked, still looking aghast at all of Amichen's dirty laundry.

"From what I've heard, my grandfather was a tyrant. Although my grandmother was Queen and he was only the Prince Regent, he forced her to do as he said. If she resisted him or offered an opinion, he berated and shamed her in public. There are even rumors that he hit her in private.

"My mother was just thirteen when her mother died and she took the throne. Her father immediately tried to control her, but she wouldn't let him. When he railed at her, she had him arrested and executed."

Naissus' eyes went wide. "She . . . had her own father executed?"

"Yes, and in public. It wasn't an assassination or carried out in secret; she had him beheaded in the public square in the city."

Naissus looked utterly horrified.

"I think he soured her on men—at least ones who were too close to the throne," Amichen explained. "If she got married, someone might try to take her throne from her. At the very least, she might be locked in a constant fight with someone to maintain it. So obviously, the best thing to do would be to avoid marriage altogether.

"But, of course, she needed an heir. So I think her advisors cooked up the story that she was in love with one of the gods, but in reality she just found a man she could control to give her a child.

"It makes sense that she would choose someone common, like a guard. Who better to control? But when I came out so disappointing, I guess she decided to go with a nobleman the second time around. But when he started to do the very thing she feared—when he tried to use his status to get power and move closer to the throne—she had him executed."

"Well . . . wow," Naissus said after a moment, sounding utterly stunned.

An uncomfortable silence descended in the litter. Then Naissus did something that surprised Amichen. While she had been talking, he had stopped rubbing on her foot—apparently too distracted by what she was saying to continue. But now he slipped the shoe off her other foot and began to rub it between his hands.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

That caught her off-guard. "Sorry for what?"

"Do you really want me to say it?"

"I've been honest with you," she pointed out.

"Fair enough," he conceded. Then he took a deep breath. "Amichen, your family is crazy. Or, maybe it's only your mother who is crazy. Or maybe it's your court or your whole damn country. But I'm sorry for you."

She just shrugged. "I grew up not knowing any different. If something is treated like it's acceptable, then it becomes acceptable."

"Well, just so you know, if you agree to marry me, I'm going to insist that our children know that I'm their father; pretending I don't exist would not be acceptable."

Amichen didn't quite know what to think. "If . . . if I agree to marry you?"

He suddenly looked shy. But after a moment, he managed a smile. "I . . . want to marry you. That's why I started talking about my family and asking about yours."

"And you still want to marry me after hearing about mine?"

"Well, so long as I can keep your mother from killing me, I ought to do fine," he joked. "And that's where having a large family comes in handy: I have no shortage of people to help defend my life."

He leaned back against the wall of the litter. "That may seem crazy to you, at first—having so many in-laws. Seven of my siblings are married and six of them have children. It's a lot of names to keep up with—and that doesn't even start in on the cousins."

"And . . . does everyone live together in the castle?" she asked tentatively.

"No. My parents live there, of course, and my eldest brother, Talent, and his wife and their three children. It's customary for the heir apparent and his or her family to live in the castle. And my two unmarried sisters still live there, too, of course.

"There are always people coming to visit, but they're only there temporarily, so you won't get bombarded with too many of them to start with."

"And . . . where will we live?"

"My father is actually going to create a new dukedom for me to the east of Castle Town—right on the border of the moors. On a clear day, we can probably even see the Lost Woods."

"Will we be made a duke and duchess?"

"Oh, no; we'll keep the titles we were born with. But our heir will be a duke or duchess because they'll inherit a duchy.

"It's really quite generous," he continued. "My second-eldest brother has a duchy, but my third brother only has a county, and my sisters didn't get any land; they only have what their husbands brought into the marriage. A duchy of my own is a lot to expect, being number eight out of ten."

"Are you their favorite?"

He laughed. "We all think we're their favorite." He shook his head. "No, part of it is that my father wants the land around there developed, and knowing how partial I was to the area, he thought he would give it to me. It probably shouldn't be a duchy, really, because it's not as big as the others and it's completely undeveloped—there's not even a house there—but I think your mother would have been insulted if all we offered you was a county."

"So you called a county a duchy just to please her?" Amichen perked a brow.

He shrugged. "In the end, it doesn't really matter if she's pleased or not. All that matters is that you're pleased.

"We're going to pass by there on our way to Castle Town, so I'll show it to you. You can decide for yourself if it's someplace you'd like to live. Admittedly, there are a lot of people who wouldn't like to live so close to the moors; they think they're creepy."

"You make them sound so romantic, though."

"That's because I appreciate solitude—maybe because in a big family, I never got much of it," he chuckled.

"I like solitude, too," she said.

He smiled. "Then maybe we'll like being alone together."

She laughed. "That sounds like a contradiction in terms."

"Trust me: only two people together is practically being alone." Then, before she could say anything more, he slipped her shoes back on. "I don't want you to give me an answer until you've seen everything. You may not like the moors. And you may not like Hyrulian customs, or my family may upset you. Or you might be homesick and don't want to stay. So I don't want you to give me an answer until you've seen everything I have to offer."

"So far, I haven't seen anything I don't like."

"I haven't either," he said with a smile. "That's why I asked."


	6. And Hell Came Forth

The day remained cool and overcast, although it warmed up enough to melt the snow and ice. But the next day dawned clear and warm and it stayed like that for days on end; it was as if the weather was trying to make apologies for getting nasty.

Amichen rode a little more every day until she was able to spend all day in the saddle. They were already so far from Shi-Ha, Naissus decided not to send the litter back; he didn't want one person to have to go so far alone. Besides, it had proven its worth as a shelter when the weather turned bad, so it came along with them, even if Amichen didn't stay in it.

Naissus, Amichen, and all the cousins rode together in a pack and talked and joked and laughed almost constantly. When they stopped for lunch, it was more of the same, and dinner was just as merry. Whether because they didn't want to get drunk too often, or they had run out of liquor, there was no more passing of the bottle in the evenings, but they did play games and gamble. Amichen noticed that despite the fact that they played until at least one person went bust every night, the next night everyone was playing again. At first, she suspected that they were limiting what they played with every night so that their money would last, then she noticed money changing hands after all the playing was done or before they got started the next day and she realized that they were actually sharing the money between them. Despite the fact that they seemed very competitive when they played and made a great show of being "rich" if they won that night, each of them would probably return to Hyrule with about the same amount of money they left with.

Hashin occasionally looked on with stern disapproval, but she never said anything. In fact, in a week's time, she probably didn't speak more than five words to Amichen. She helped her get dressed in the morning in silence, then, in the evening, she helped her get undressed in silence.

But that didn't bother Amichen at all. She was finally finding her voice after spending so many years mute and invisible. The men made her the center of attention. They wanted to hear about Shi-Ha—it was a strange and exotic place to them—and they wanted her opinion on religion, politics, philosophy, and the natural sciences. Shi-Ha certainly had a reputation for scholarship—most government jobs required passing a test, with higher-ranking positions requiring more and progressively harder tests—but Hyrule seemed to have a broader educational system so that everyone—not just the gentry who were destined for government jobs—was educated. Even their common farmers, Amichen was amazed to hear, were able to read and write.

As with everything else, Hyrule didn't seem to educate out of a sense of competition; they seemed to do it just because it was enjoyable to study.

After a week and a half on the road, Naissus pointed at trees on the horizon. "There are the Lost Woods," he said, pointing to the north of the road.

"Is all of it the Lost Woods?" Amichen asked, pointing to the forest that was south of the road.

"No, the Lost Woods are completely separate. In some places, the southern forest crosses the road and comes close to the Lost Woods, but it never actually joins up."

"Were they once all one forest?"

"I don't know. Maybe they were and the southern portion retreated, or maybe they're separate and the southern forest is moving closer and will one day join up with them."

"Have you ever been into the Lost Woods?" Amichen asked.

"Rodger and I and a friend of ours from the Academy went in once on a dare, but we didn't go too far. The path is constantly splitting off and sometimes other paths overlap it. And the trees are so dense, you can't see more than a few feet ahead. I don't know anyone who has ever made it to the center. I figure it would take several days to try and find your way to the center. And once you're there, then you have to find your way back out again."

"We tied a rope around a tree at the place where we went in," Rodger added, "and we trailed it behind us so that we could be sure to find our way out again."

"It also came in handy when we ended up going in a circle," Naissus said. "If you saw the rope, then there was no doubt that you had just walked in a circle."

Rodger shook his head. "Yeah, I still don't know how that happened. I could have sworn we were going due north."

The next day, they entered a narrow field between the two forests that was less than a hundred yards wide.

"The trees are different here," Amichen said, looking at the forest as they rode by. "They're pretty—so tall and straight."

"I like the ones in Shi-Ha," Naissus said. "You can shelter under those huge evergreens all year round."

Rodger laughed. "You can tell Suss and I had to spend time living in the wilderness with no equipment: a tree's ability to keep rain off of us is the first thing we notice."

The southern forest gradually crept closer to the road until it enveloped it. It was nice to ride in the shade of the trees; the afternoon was so warm it felt like summer.

"It's downright hot out here," Rodger said, unbuttoning his cote to the waist, revealing his linen undershirt damp with sweat.

"And to think that it snowed a week ago," Naissus said.

"You can't tell it today."

"How far are we from Hyrule?" Amichen asked.

"Not far at all," Naissus assured her. "We'll clear the woods this evening and then you'll be in Hyrule. But we'll detour north to see the moors tomorrow and probably spend another night there before going to Castle Town the day after that."

"I'm ready for a bath," Rodger said.

"I want to sleep in a real bed," Arlen added.

"I'm going to sit down to eat and I'm not going to stop until you have to roll me away from the table," Walcott declared, making everyone laugh.

"What do you want most when we get home?" Naissus asked Amichen.

She shrugged lightheartedly. "I don't know. To see things, I guess. I can live without a bath or a bed or a big meal if I can just keep seeing new things."

Naissus looked at her curiously. "It sounds like you have a wandering foot. Maybe you won't want to settle down and live in only one place."

"I doubt I'll ever grow bored with Hyrule, if that's what you're hinting at," she replied. "I'm sure there will always be new things for me to see and learn."

"And it's not like the two of you have to live in exile on the moors," Rodger added. "There's no reason why you can't travel if you like and just go home when it suits you."

"True," Naissus said. "But I think I'm done with travelling for a little while, at least."

Rodger leaned in and whispered conspiratorially to Amichen. "If Suss ever gets to be too big a stick in the mud, you just let me know and I'll come for you. We'll go somewhere."

She glanced at Naissus, expecting him to object to Rodger's proposition to whisk his bride away, but he just shrugged. "What? He drags me off sometimes, too."

Rodger laughed. "I know you, Suss—known you too long. You'd be a hermit if I didn't keep on you."

"Probably."

Bodi interrupted them. "Hey, look at that," he said, pointing at a massive tree across the road a short distance ahead of them. They rode closer to take a look.

"I haven't been jumping in ages," Rodger said joyfully, turning his horse around so he could back up and get a running start. But Naissus was looking at the tree with a frown.

"It's been cut," he said, his voice rising in alarm.

A second later, there was a buzzing sound, like angry bees, as arrows flew at them from the underbrush on both sides of the road.

Horses whinnied in panic and people shouted, then began screaming as arrows quickly found their mark.

An arrow struck Amichen's horse in the neck. It reared up and she fell out of the saddle and onto the ground. Over all the confusion, she heard one man's voice shout, "Don't hit the horses, you stupid bastards!"

Amichen found herself surrounded by hooves stomping dangerously close to her head; she quickly pushed herself to her feet to avoid being trampled to death. But standing up was hardly any better; she was hemmed in by panicked horses on all sides and she couldn't look over any of them to see what was happening.

Someone slipped from his saddle and fell on top of her, knocking her back to the ground and pinning her legs under his body.

She pushed herself up a second time, only to gasp in horror when she saw it was Arlen who was lying on top of her. There were three arrows in his chest and another through the side of his neck.

She grabbed his hand. "Arlen! Arlen!" she called to him, but his eyes never opened. In the back of her mind, she knew that he was already dead, but her heart held out hope that maybe he still lived and, even if he wouldn't survive, he would feel her hand on his and know that he would not die alone.

The horses suddenly stampeded, veering around Amichen and Arlen and the thrashing body of her mortally-wounded horse. Just as soon as it had started, it was over, and Amichen found herself sitting alone in the middle of a field of carnage. Everywhere there were bloody bodies riddled with arrows.

None of them were moving.

Then men began to emerge from the underbrush all around her. They were a desperate sort, dressed in multiple layers of rags. A couple of them had no shoes. Most had long, unkempt hair and all of them were unshaven.

One man who came forward appeared to be their leader. He was a huge brute of a man—tall and meaty, with hands that seemed as big as Amichen's entire head. His black hair was thick and matted and his beard hung down to his chest.

He pointed after the fleeing horses. "Get those horses!" he yelled. Several men took after them.

He looked over his handiwork, then caught sight of Amichen. She suddenly wished she had had the sense to lie down and pretend to be dead.

He started towards her, his long legs covering a lot of ground with each step. As he drew nearer, Amichen was suddenly reminded of a picture in her history book of one of Shi-Ha's infamous pirates—brutal savages who had raided along Shi-Ha's coasts more than a hundred years before. Shi-Ha had begged help from Hyrule, and it took the combined force of both navies and no small amount of trickery to finally eradicate them.

But, as the black-haired man bore down on Amichen, she felt she knew what had happened to all the pirates. They had not gone away; they had moved inland.

A figure on the ground stirred as the man came nearer. It wasn't until he struggled to push himself up that Amichen recognized Naissus through the blood and bruises on his face. It looked like he might have taken a hoof to the head, and he had an arrow protruding from his left arm. He didn't seem to be conscious of anything around him, but he was trying to get up anyway.

The black-haired man hardly broke his stride as he pulled out his sword and slashed Naissus across the face. Amichen screamed as she watched Naissus' blood fly through the air, but Naissus made no sound; he just fell back limply and did not move again.

A second later, the man was beside Amichen. He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her up to her knees. "Well, lookee here! The princess of Shi-Ha! There's a prize I didn't expect to have."

"She'll be worth a lot of ransom," one of the other men said eagerly.

"Not when I'm done with her," the big man laughed, pulling Amichen to her feet.

"Aw, boss, don't waste money."

"Eh, she'll be more trouble than she's worth in the long run. Besides, she's just a human. That bitch-queen of Shi-Ha may not even want to buy her back."

The man dragged Amichen clear of the bodies, then threw her down to the ground. She was still so stunned by the suddenness of the violent attack that she didn't react; she just lay on her side, numb and immobile. But when the big man took off his sword belt and tossed it aside, her brain finally registered what fate awaited her and her numb fear turned into the same blind panic that caused the horses to stampede.

She tried to scramble to her feet, her leather-soled shoes slipping on the old leaves covering the ground. She only made it a few steps before the man grabbed her again.

She struggled against him, but he pushed her down, pinning her under his weight.

She struck out against him, but she might as well have been hitting a tree for all the good it did her.

She felt him rip open her robes, exposing her bare legs.

She hurriedly searched her brain for what little she had learned from her few disastrous months in military training. When he looked up at her, she struck him again, but this time she put all of her force into the heel of her hand and hit him in the nose, trying to drive it back into his head.

He jerked back, but didn't get off of her. She tried to hit him again, but he sat back on his haunches, out of reach of her fists.

He wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his hand. Seeing blood only seemed to further enrage him. "You little bitch!" he shouted. Then he slapped her across the face so hard her vision went black, save for little white popping lights.

The next thing she knew, she was being torn apart from the inside. She screamed and blindly struggled against the man, but it did no good. At some point, she sank back down into half-consciousness, so she was only partially aware of the pain. Then, at last, the worst of it was over, and the weight was off of her and she could breathe again. Her screams devolved into sobs.

But it wasn't really over. Another man came and held her down and the nightmare repeated itself. No matter how hard Amichen tried, she couldn't seem to wake up; her nightmare got stuck in a seemingly-endless loop. Before long, she just stopped trying and she sank down into a darkness where, at least, there was no more pain.


	7. The Beautiful People

"Amichen! Amichen!" a soft voice said urgently.

She slowly opened her eyes. Leaning over her was a beautiful blond-haired woman with eyes the color of silver. Amichen had never seen eyes like that before.

"Come on, sweetheart," the woman pleaded. "You have to wake up."

"Naissus is still alive!" someone else called out.

Amichen turned her head to see a young man kneeling over Naissus' body. Naissus seemed very dark and dirty, but the man leaning over him looked bright and clean—almost as if he was glowing with light. He was as handsome as the woman was beautiful.

The beautiful woman turned back to Amichen. "Amichen, sweetheart, you have to wake up and take care of Naissus."

"He won't live," she said emotionlessly. She was past the point of feeling anything—either for her would-be fiancé or herself.

"He will if you help him," the beautiful woman pleaded.

Amichen looked back at Naissus. It wasn't just that he was dark; everything around him was dimmed, like it was part of a dead world. It was a place she didn't want to go back to.

Amichen turned back to the beautiful woman. "I want to go with you." She didn't know how she knew that the woman and man were going to be leaving, but she wanted to go with them to the light place they had come from.

"No, Amichen, you don't."

"Yes, I do," she said firmly. She also didn't know how she knew it, but she was certain that they would be going to a place that was free of pain and fear. Why on earth would she want to go back to the dark world and endure that again?

The young man walked over to her and knelt beside her. He looked so much like Naissus, with his messy blond hair and blue eyes, she felt a twinge of guilt. "Amichen, you still have a destiny to fulfill—and Naissus with you," the man said. "If you wake up now, you can still save his life. But if you give up, he will die, too, and neither of you will fulfill your destinies. Then you will be reincarnated and will have to start all over again."

Amichen didn't like the sound of that. What if she had to suffer another sixteen years of living under her mother's bullying?

"I know it's hard," the woman said softly. She reached out and stroked Amichen's cheek so lovingly, Amichen felt as if the beautiful woman was her real mother. "And it will hurt," the woman continued. "We can't spare you that. But things will get better."

"You will not regret staying here, Amichen," the man added. "I promise."

Amichen didn't want to stay. But the more they talked, the more she felt guilty about leaving Naissus to die alone. And she didn't want to disappoint these people who seemed to care so much for her.

"Alright," she finally said.

The man and woman rewarded her with beautiful smiles. "That's my brave girl," the woman said. Then she bent down to kiss Amichen on the forehead.

Amichen closed her eyes, feeling her heart swell with love for this woman. She had never been called brave before. But these people—these wonderful people—understood what she was sacrificing by staying.

She opened her eyes again, meaning to ask them who they were, but they were gone. She looked around, but there was no sign that the couple had ever been there. The world was no longer dim, although the sun was getting low in the west and casting long shadows.

Had she dreamed it all? Had the people been some sort of hallucination caused by her pain? So hurt and alone, had her mind conjured up kind people to help her?

She thought about this for a few minutes and decided that she was pretty sure they had been some sort of dream, but, on the off-chance they were somehow real, she thought it best to check on Naissus and the others.

She rolled onto her side, moaning in pain as she did so. She felt as if her entire body was bruised; there didn't seem to be a part of her that didn't ache. But despite the pain, she tried to push herself up.

She managed to get to her hands and knees, but she knew that she would never be able to stand. She had no strength in her legs and moving too much was a burning agony. So she began, very slowly, to crawl across the ground.

The pain was so bad, she began to quietly sob, although no tears came from her eyes; she seemed to have already cried all the tears she had in her, so there was nothing left in her but whimpers.

She didn't pay any attention to where she was going and the first person she came to was not Naissus, but one of the squires—she thought she had heard Rodger call him Harris. She knew he was dead as soon as she saw him; his eyes were wide open, as if he had died in shock.

She gently closed his eyes, then moved on; she couldn't let herself think about what she was seeing.

His two companions were close by. One lay on his face, his back so riddled with arrows, he looked like a hedgehog. The other young man was dead as well, his hand still gripping the hilt of the sword he never had time to draw.

She moved to the next lifeless figure and was shocked to discover it was Hashin. The older woman lay on her back, her eyes fixed with the same shocked look that the squire had. There was a single arrow protruding from her chest and blood running from her mouth indicated it had pierced her lung.

Amichen found herself feeling sorry for Hashin. Despite the fact that she was a bossy, crotchety old thing, she had been absolutely loyal to her queen and she didn't deserve to die so horribly. But part of Amichen was glad that she had died; had she lived, she would have certainly been subject to the same horrible abuse that Amichen had endured, and Amichen was of the firm opinion that dying would have been preferable to living through that.

She passed by the litter lying on its side, as if someone had hastily cut it from the horses. Despite the fact that it was gilded and surely worth a nice sum of money, it had been left behind. Why? Did the bandits think, like Naissus, that it was too slow to move?

She touched the next body before she even saw it, and she jerked her hand away with instinctive fear. But when she looked at it, she saw it was only Walcott. His eyes were closed, but he looked uninjured. She reached for him again, hope rising in her, but when she touched his face, she found he was cold. She pressed her fingers against his neck, wanting so desperately to find a pulse, but as the minutes slowly passed, she had to finally admit that she could feel nothing.

Almost as if she couldn't admit that he was dead, she began searching for a cause. It wasn't until she rolled him over that she saw that the back of his cote was soaked in blood and there was a broken arrow shaft protruding from just below his left shoulder blade.

Bodi was in a similar state. He lay face down, looking unhurt, but when Amichen rolled him over, she found a broken arrow sticking out of his heart and another one in his stomach.

Whoever the bandits were, they were skilled at archery. They had taken out everyone simultaneously and in less than a minute. There had been no time for anyone to teleport away or teleport help in. The bandits knew exactly how to attack.

She found Seymour lying on his side, partially curled up, as if he had died in great pain. He had been the youngest in the group and always seemed like the quietest one, content to laugh and smile while others told jokes. For some reason, looking at him made Amichen hurt in a way that the others hadn't.

And then her hurt was compounded a hundredfold as she saw the one sight she most didn't want to see. But even though it broke her heart to look, she found herself numbly shuffling towards Rodger's body.

He was pierced by half a dozen arrows. There was even the point of one protruding from his right side where it had gone into his back and passed partway through him. His right arm was thrown out and, just out of reach of his hand, was his sword. It looked like he had been the hardest person to kill; he had gone down fighting.

Amichen closed his still eyes, then pressed her forehead to his as dry sobs began to rack her body again. Slowly, a few tears leaked out of her eyes and dripped onto his chalk-white face.

More than any of the others, he had been her friend—her first friend. Despite the fact that he was a flirt—or maybe because of it—she had liked him better than any of the rest. He was so unlike her in every way, it seemed a natural, complimentary attraction. He had a confidence and vitality to him that she had always lacked, but just being around him caused some of it to rub off onto her. She felt more alive when he was around.

There would be no trip to his estate this summer—no horse races or gambling or tournaments—no masked ball full of happy, fun-loving Hyrulians like him. The lord was never coming home.

It was a long time before she could make herself leave Rodger. She felt like a part of her had died inside and she began to wish that she had never woken up; better to have died and passed over to the Other World with everyone else.

But she still had to check on Naissus and see if her dream had been just that—a dream.

He lay a little way away from the rest of the group. When Amichen finally came to him, her heart dropped and the last of her hope faded away. He had a nasty cut down the left side of his face that looked as if it went all the way to the bone. It went across his eye, too, and it was a bloody mess; it was impossible to tell if he still had an eye or not.

He was as pale as all the others—save for bruising on the right side of his head—and Amichen knew he was gone, too.

The last of her strength drained away and she lay down next to him, her head on his chest. "Come back for me," she whispered. "If you weren't a dream, come back for me. Let me go with the rest of them."

She closed her eyes, willing the beautiful people to come back and get her. She was so focused on bringing them back, it took her several minutes to notice that she was hearing something beneath her. She moved her ear closer to Naissus' heart.

It was beating.

She reached up, cupping his bloodied face in her hands. "Naissus. Naissus, can you hear me?"

She thought she saw his lips move a little. She leaned down close to listen.

He was making some sort of soft sound, but it was so indistinct, she couldn't make out any words.

"Naissus, can you hear me? Talk to me."

She continued to listen, but she still couldn't make out anything he was trying to say.

She sat up and watched him for a couple of minutes. His lips continued to move ever so slightly and it appeared that he was talking, but it was clear that he wasn't trying to communicate with her. She wondered if he was delirious. Or maybe the beautiful people were in his dreams, trying to convince him to wake up and live and he, like Amichen before him, was arguing why he should go with them.

She noticed that blood was still dripping from the cut on his face. She reached for the hem of her linen shift and saw that it was spotted with large patches of her own blood. But she forced herself to ignore it and she tore strips of cloth from the parts that were still relatively clean.

She folded the linen into a bandage and placed it over Naissus' oozing wound. Then she knotted a few small pieces together and wound the strip around his head a couple of times, tying the bandage on.

With the worse of his wound covered up, he looked much improved.

She wasn't sure what to do about the arrow still protruding from his left arm. Even if she had the strength to pull it out—which she probably couldn't have done in the best of circumstances—she was pretty sure she didn't have the stomach for it. Besides, she wasn't even sure if pulling it out was the best thing to do; she knew sometimes physicians pushed them all the way through and pulled them out the other side.

In the end, she decided to pack linen around the shaft and tie it on the best she could. It would have to wait until there was a healer or physician to remove it.

Which left her with her next problem: how was she going to get help? The sun was setting, so it was unlikely that anyone would ride past in the next eight hours or so. And the idea of her walking the rest of the way to Castle Town was too ridiculous to consider; she couldn't even stand up.

She finally decided that nothing could be done at the moment. Maybe by morning she would feel a little better and she could walk towards town. With any luck, she'd meet someone along the way who could help.

But that gave rise to an alarming thought: what if the bandits were still around? What if she went down the road, only to run into them again? Or what if they decided that they wanted her for ransom after all and came back for her?

Her heart began to pound in her chest and she was gripped by terror. She couldn't survive another encounter with them. And she wouldn't want to; she would rather kill herself than face them again.

She looked around, wanting a place to hide. She didn't immediately see any likely-looking places, but there was quite a bit of underbrush in places—the same underbrush that had concealed the bandits until it was too late.

She considered leaving Naissus where he lay, since he could pass for dead, but then she stupidly realized that the bandages would alert someone that he not only wasn't dead, but someone had taken care of him.

So, she began the laborious task of dragging him off the road and into a dense thicket of green bushes. Despite the fact that the bushes were only a few dozen feet away, it felt as if they were at the end of the world. Amichen's strength was almost non-existent, and even though Naissus was rather slight of build, it felt as if he weighed several hundred pounds.

She was panting heavily and her vision was growing black around the edges when she finally reached the thicket with Naissus. She found a natural hole under the branches in one section and she crawled into it, then pulled Naissus in beside her.

Amichen peered through the bushes, but it was nearly dark and she could no longer see the road or the bodies strewn across it. Even if the bandits came back in the middle of the night, they were very unlikely to find her and Naissus under the bushes. But just in case, she pulled Naissus' sword from its sheath and held it tightly in her hand. If something happened and she didn't think she could defend herself, then she could at least fall on the sword and end her misery. It couldn't hurt as much as what she had just experienced and it would surely be over faster.

The air grew cool as night descended. The days may have been summer-warm, but it was still spring in reality and the nights were chilly.

Amichen began to shiver—although she wasn't sure if that was because it was cold or her injuries were causing her to chill. She worried that Naissus might be cold, too, but she didn't have the strength to go search their luggage for a blanket—if their luggage was even still out there; the bandits may have looted it.

So, she lay down close to Naissus, trying to cover him with her body without putting too much weight on him. She listened to him breathing; it was shallow, but steady. He was no longer trying to talk.

Maybe the beautiful people had talked him into living. She could only hope so, because there was nothing more she could do for him until the morning came and she could go for help.

Exhaustion quickly took over her and she fell into a deep and troubled sleep.


	8. Hyrulian Help

Voices startled Amichen awake. Men's voices.

She tried to blink her eyes open, but she seemed to be having difficulty focusing her vision. She could see that there was some pale light—so it must sometime around dawn—but she couldn't see anything around her but a blur of brown and green.

But she managed to grip the sword a little tighter as she held her breath and listened to the voices.

"They're here!" someone was shouting. "Here!"

Then, "Dear gods!"

There was the sound of running feet, which caused Amichen to clench her hand on the sword even tighter.

"Is it all of them?"

"How . . . how is this even possible?"

"Quick, check them. See if there are any who yet live."

There was a long silence. Then, "The Duke of Summerfield is dead," someone announced. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"Not Rodger!"

"I'm afraid so, sire. But it looks like he didn't go down without a fight."

"They're all dead, Your Highness," someone else pronounced. "Your cousins, the squires—everyone."

"M-my brother?"

A pause. Then, "I don't see him."

"Search! Find him! If he's not here, then maybe . . ." Desperate hope hung in the air.

Amichen tried to decide what to do. Her instinct said to stay hidden—people were dangerous—men especially. But some part of her feverish, disoriented brain slowly reasoned that if the people searching knew Rodger by name, they must be from Hyrule. And if one of the searchers was a prince, then he must be one of Naissus' brothers.

Part of her said that was logical, but another part of her was screaming to stay hidden at all costs. What if she was wrong?

"Search everywhere," a voice commanded.

Amichen shrank back as footsteps drew near her hiding place. She held her breath, hoping the person would go away. For several tense seconds, he walked around the thicket, looking, but apparently seeing nothing, he moved on.

Amichen breathed a sigh of relief.

After several more minutes, someone said, "Highness, I just don't see anything."

"Is Naissus the only one missing?"

"Was the Princess of Shi-Ha with him?"

"Yes. He told Mother that he was bringing her back with him."

"There's a woman here," someone said.

But, after a minute, the man pronounced, "This can't be Princess Amichen; this woman is too old. And she's Hylian. Isn't the princess human?"

"Yes."

"So the princess is missing, too?"

"It would seem so."

"A prince and princess missing," someone said. "That can't be a coincidence. I think we have to assume they've been taken for ransom. Someone could extract a heavy toll from both kingdoms for both of them."

"But it would be nearly impossible for them to keep Naissus held hostage."

"Unless he was kept unconscious," someone pointed out. "He might be badly injured, or they might keep him drugged. Or they might use magic to contain him."

"There are ways," someone agreed.

There was the sound of hoofbeats, then a new voice. "I've found a trail, Your Highness. It looks like whoever did this rode off with all the horses. They're heading north, towards the Lost Woods."

"Let's get the bastards. I want my brother and the princess back."

The voices began to get farther away.

Suddenly, Amichen's brain was screaming louder than her instinct. These were Naissus' people! They would help her, if they only knew she was there. If she let them get away, it might be hours—or even days—before she could get help, and it might be too late for Naissus by then.

She pushed herself to her hands and knees and crawled out of the thicket. She could hear the sounds of horses and men talking, but they were farther up the road and getting farther away.

"Stay alert!" a man called out. "Watch for ambushes."

Amichen felt a rising panic. They were moving away!

She tried to get to her feet, but couldn't.

"Help!" she called out, but her voice was weak; her throat was sore from screaming and dry from lack of water.

"Please, come back," she begged. "Please help."

She crawled towards the road, but found the fallen tree still blocked the way.

She pulled herself up, looking over it. In the distance, she could see blurry figures riding away.

"Help," she called out, trying to be louder. But she had no hope that they would hear her over the sound of their horses.

And then, miraculously, the rearward figure slowed and, as if he could feel Amichen reaching out for him, he glanced back.

She leaned against the trunk for support, stretching up as far as she could, waving her arm a little. "Help," she pleaded weakly. "Please, help."

The figure gave a shout, then turned and galloped back. He pulled up hard in front of the tree and leapt from his horse before it had even come to a full stop. He clambered over the tree truck and caught Amichen in his arms. She burst into delirious tears, torn between being scared of the strange man and happy that someone might help.

"Princess Amichen?"

She couldn't reply for crying.

Other horses came riding up. "Is it the princess?" someone asked.

"I don't know, but I think so."

"She's human," someone else said.

"Must be her."

Then, "Dear gods, look at her!"

Amichen knew they were looking at her torn and bloodstained clothes. She drew her legs up, trying to hide, embarrassed for anyone to see and know.

"Give me some water," the man holding her commanded.

Someone passed him a leather bottle and he pressed it to her lips. "Here, drink."

Some of the water sloshed over her chin, chilling her, but she managed to drink a little. And as soon as she did, she wanted— _needed_ —more and she began to desperately gulp down the water. She hadn't recognized that her delirium and inability to see clearly was caused by dehydration.

"That's enough for now," the man said, pulling the bottle away. "You'll make yourself sick."

She blinked away the last of her tears and found she could see better. The man holding her was older—probably approaching forty—and stoutly built, but it was still easy to see a family resemblance between him and Naissus; he had the same unruly blond hair and perfectly-blue eyes.

"Amichen?" he asked.

She nodded a little, then managed to choke out, "Yes. How . . . how did you find us?"

"Naissus called out to us, but then he was suddenly cut off. When we tried to contact our cousins, we couldn't reach them either. That's when we knew something was very wrong."

"They're . . . they're dead," Amichen said, fresh tears falling from her eyes again.

"Naissus, too?" the prince asked, his voice choking.

She shook her head. "No . . . not him."

The prince gripped her a little tighter. "Where is he?"

She turned a little, pointing behind her. "He's over there."

A couple of men scrambled off their horses, jumped over the fallen tree, and hurried to where Amichen indicated.

"In the bushes," she instructed.

"I don't see him," one of the men said, sounding frantic.

"Look underneath."

The other man got on his hands and knees and peered under the bushes. "Here he is!"

Together, the two men pulled him out. "Oh, sire, he's in bad shape."

"Poul, come here," the prince said.

Another man came hurrying over and the prince carefully transferred Amichen to him. "Give her a little more to drink," he said, before going to his brother's side.

Amichen tried to listen to what they were saying, but they were speaking so low, she only caught snatches of their conversation.

". . . looks bad."

"Can you get . . . out?"

"Better not . . . Let a doctor. . ."

"Should we wait . . ?"

"I wouldn't."

"If we're going to move him . . . need to . . ."

"I'll do it."

One of the men pulled out a knife and began to saw at the arrow shaft in order to shorten it and make carrying Naissus easier. The prince stood up and went over to the abandoned litter, examining it silently for a minute or two. "Let's use this to get them back home," he declared.

There was a flurry of activity. Men came forward and carried the litter over the fallen tree. There was a brief discussion over whether they could repair the cut harness well enough to use it again, but someone pointed out that they wouldn't be able to make it work anyway because they didn't have horses trained to move in step. "It will cause more problems than it will solve," the man warned.

"Then we'll carry it back ourselves," the prince declared.

There was another round of discussion of what to do about the dead. No one wanted to abandon them, but the prince was concerned about splitting his small band of a dozen men. "If those bastards could take out ten people—including two knights and three squires—faster than they could get out or bring help in, then the thirteen of us are hardly much of a threat—even less so if we split up."

"I hate to leave them like this, Highness," one man said sadly.

The prince clapped him on the shoulder. "I know," he said quietly. "But there are more people on their way now; they won't be alone for long."

"His Highness is right," another man said: "we should see to Prince Naissus and the princess. The living come first."

"The sooner my brother gets to a doctor, the better," the prince agreed.

Naissus was carefully laid out in the litter, then Amichen was put in beside him. It had been a bit cramped when they had both been sitting up in it; there really wasn't room for both of them to lie down. But Amichen still couldn't walk and she certainly couldn't ride, so there was nothing to do but curl up a little and try to give Naissus as much room as possible.

The prince gave a signal and four men lifted the litter from the ground. It swayed alarmingly as they struggled to get it balanced, unused to carrying anything like it.

"Steady there," the prince called out.

The swaying stopped as the men got comfortable with the weight. "Ready?" the prince asked.

"Yes, Your Highness," someone replied.

"You need to move in step," he instructed.

"We'll march it back home," a man promised.

They began moving at a brisk pace—as fast as the litter horses moved.

Amichen rested her head on Naissus' legs and slipped in and out of sleep. She still hurt, she still hadn't had enough to drink, she was hungry, and her body began to ache in new places from lying in such an awkward position and being unable to move.

There didn't seem much else to do but try to ignore it all in sleep and hope that they would soon be in Castle Town.

She woke when the litter rocked heavily from side to side. Her first panicked thought was that they were being attacked again, but a moment later, the litter came to rest on the ground and a man said, "Phew, my shoulder's killing me."

"Let's trade out," the prince said. "Give you men a break."

A different crew of four hurried forward to take their place. The litter was lifted again, then they restarted the march.

Apparently carrying the litter was a lot of work—especially for men not used to it—because they had to stop and change people out every thirty minutes or so. But no one complained about having to do it or begged off because they were tired. Every man in the group seemed as anxious as the prince to get Naissus and Amichen home.

Amichen was dozing lightly when a voice woke her up. "Riders ahead, Highness!"

Amichen panicked again, terrified that it was the bandits coming for them. But a moment later the prince announced, "That's my father and the others."

There were murmurs of relief from the other men. Even they seemed glad to be receiving reinforcements.

Within a few minutes, Amichen heard the sound of many horses galloping down the road and she, too, felt relief; it sounded like a small army was coming to their aid. They need not fear another attack by the bandits.

"Is Naissus well?" a man hurriedly asked when the new contingent met the prince's group.

"He's not well, but I think he still lives."

A moment later, the prince was peeking into the litter. "Princess, how is Naissus?"

"He's still warm," she said. Her head was at his feet, so she couldn't easily watch his face or listen to him breathe, but she had slipped her hand under the cuff of his pants and pressed her fingers against his bare flesh. It still felt warm and alive beneath her touch.

The prince leaned in and touched his brother gently on the face. "He's still alive," he pronounced.

"Thank the gods," the other man said.

"Did you bring wagons?"

"Wagons and a carriage. I thought the carriage would be better if they're injured; it will be a smoother ride."

"That's a good idea."

"They're right behind us; I only rode ahead when I saw you on the road. Ah, here they are now!"

Amichen heard the rattle of wagons and the sound of more hoofbeats.

"Let's get Amichen and Naissus into the carriage and get them back home as quickly as possible," the prince commanded. "Then we'll take the wagons back to the woods and get our people."

"I'll go," the man said. "You take Naissus and the princess back to Castle Town."

But the prince objected. "No, _I'll_ go. We don't know where those bandits are; they may try another attack."

"Which is why I will go," the other man insisted.

"Which is why you will _not_ go, Father," the prince contradicted.

"I am not incapable of taking care of myself," the older man said, sounding rather affronted.

"I know you're not. But this is a national tragedy; the people will be distraught when they hear; they may even panic. You need to be there to speak to them—to reassure them that everything's being done to catch these murderers. People need to see you at the helm."

"You're capable of doing that," the king suggested.

"But it's not my job to do it," the prince retorted.

There was a pause, then a heavy sigh. "Very well. But take my men with you. They're fresh and I don't want you going back without an adequate force."

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but the rest of us want to return. We started this and we need to finish it."

It took a few more minutes of wrangling, but it was at last agreed that the prince and his contingent would return to the forest, along with most of the king's men and the wagons. A small company would escort the king, Naissus, and Amichen back to Castle Town.

The prince scooped Amichen out of the litter and transferred her to a seat inside the enclosed carriage. The king got in, taking the opposite seat, then the prince gently laid his brother across the seat so that Naissus' head was in his father's lap.

The king choked up with tears when he saw the extent of Naissus' injuries.

"Ready?" the prince asked. The king could only nod.

The prince stepped back, shut the door, then signaled the driver. The carriage began to sway as the driver cracked his whip and the horses began to gallop down the road. As promised, the carriage ride was smooth. Despite the speed of the horses, the carriage hardly rocked more than the litter when the horses were walking.

Amichen found it was far too painful to sit, so she lay down across her seat and idly studied the king. He was fairly robust, like his older son, but his short, neatly-trimmed brown beard was laced with silver; he had to be around sixty years old.

But what really struck her was the kindness of his face as he looked down at his youngest son.

For a long time, he slowly stroked Naissus' blood-matted hair with his hand. "My poor child," he murmured quietly as tears silently rolled down his cheeks. "My poor Suss."

After a time, though, he seemed to become aware that they were not alone in the carriage, and he looked up at Amichen. "Do you need anything, Princess?" he asked her quietly.

Amichen's stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. "Do you have anything to eat?"

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry; I didn't think to bring any food."

He reached under the seat and pulled out a leather bottle, offering it to her. "Are you thirsty?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, reaching out for the canteen. It was a little difficult to drink while lying on her side and with the carriage swaying, too, but she managed to get most of the water in her mouth.

It felt like she could never get enough to drink.

She drained half the bottle, then corked it again; she might want more later.

It was then that she noticed the king was watching her as she had been watching him. She saw his eyes slide down to her legs and she curled up again, not wanting him to look at her.

His eyes met hers. She could see a profound sorrow in them. "I've had messages relayed to your mother," he informed her. "I suspect we'll have a response from her by the time we return to the city."

Amichen felt her heart sink, if possible, a little lower. She hadn't thought about her mother. What would she say when she heard? Would she be angry, thinking that Amichen should have done a better job defending herself? Of course, if two knights, three squires, and several additional noblemen couldn't protect her, no reasonable person would expect that she would do a much better job, even if she had any training.

But would her mother be reasonable or just angry? This not only ruined her plans for an alliance between Shi-Ha and Hyrule, but it was also a great personal and national shame in a country which so carefully hid their young noblewomen behind curtains and layers of long robes to protect their honor.

"I'm sure your mother will come as soon as she's heard," the king said, looking at her strangely. He must have thought it odd that she didn't react positively when he said her mother was being notified.

"Perhaps," Amichen said.

The king looked even more confused. "Of course she will come. What parent wouldn't?"

 _Mine wouldn't_ , she thought to herself, but she didn't tell the king that. Naissus may have been able to overlook her family problems, but his father might be less charitable. She had the distinct impression that Naissus had a normal, loving family and they might find hers too incompatible.

"Who was the man who found me?" Amichen asked, changing the conversation. "I mean, your son. What is his name?"

"That's Talent."

"And he is . . . the Crown Prince?" she asked hesitantly. Naissus had rattled off all the names of his siblings for her at one point, but she honestly didn't remember them.

"Yes, he's my eldest," the king replied.

She nodded a little, then fell silent. She was shy around strangers under the best of circumstances, but now, when she was hurt and her heart was so heavy it felt like she could barely carry it, she found the idea of making polite conversation with her once future father-in-law excruciating—and more than a little ridiculous. Who could talk at a time like this?

Perhaps the king sensed this—or maybe, as he held his seriously-wounded child on his lap, he felt the same way—and he didn't try to talk anymore.

She must have dozed off again, because the next thing she knew, the horses' shoes were ringing out on stone-paved streets.

"Make way for the king!" someone ahead of them was shouting. "Hurry! Make way!"

Within moments, they were driving through a thick gate without even slowing down.

Amichen propped herself up on her elbow and looked out the window. She only caught glimpses of the stone castle, but from what she saw, it looked considerably bigger than their palace in Shi-Ha.

The carriage didn't stop until it was directly in front of the castle stairs, where a huge group of people waited to meet them.

A woman wearing a crown—Amichen assumed, by her age, that she was the queen—jerked the carriage door open. "George, how is he?" she asked anxiously.

"Where's the doctor? He needs the doctor."

A middle-aged man pushed himself past the queen. "I'm here, Your Majesty. Let's get him out."

The king carefully lifted Naissus into his arms, then managed to get him out of the carriage by himself. The doctor gave Naissus a brief once-over, then instructed the king to carry him inside immediately. As he hurried behind, in the king's wake, he began giving hurried instructions to his assistants to begin making medicines.

The queen was looking inside the carriage again. "Amichen?"

Amichen nodded.

The queen gestured to her. "Come, dear. Let's get you taken care of, too."

Amichen managed to push herself to her feet and stumble to the door of the carriage by holding onto the walls, but when she tried to step outside, her knees collapsed under her and she sat down, hard, on the step of the carriage. A shot of pain ran up through her body.

"Oh, darling . . . Reni, come here and pick her up. The poor child can't walk," the queen said.

A young man approached and bent down to pick Amichen up, but she shrank away from him. "Don't," she whispered, her fear instinct suddenly roaring back to life.

"We need to get you inside so the doctor can treat you," he said gently. But she shook her head.

"It's alright," the queen assured her. "Reni won't hurt you."

"I'm your brother-in-law," he added.

That wasn't, of course, technically true. She hadn't even said "yes" to Naissus' proposal—much less actually married him. But she understood what he meant: he was not only Naissus' brother, but he viewed her as his family, too.

"Re-Renault?" she said, searching her mind for one of the many names that Naissus had told her.

"That's right. But everyone calls me Reni."

He was the third prince. And, like all the other princes, he was a Knight of Hyrule.

He watched her carefully, but when she didn't respond, he held his arms out to her. "Please?" he begged.

She finally nodded a little.

He bent down again and carefully scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'm right here with you, darling," the queen said, patting her on the shoulder.

"Move out of the way," Reni told the crowd gathered on the stairs. They parted before him and he—with his mother tagging alongside—carried Amichen up the stairs and into the castle.

Reni carried her up a massive staircase—as wide as the front steps of the Shi-Ha palace (which were a point of pride in the royal family)—and hurried her along a wide hallway on the second floor. He walked swiftly, but Amichen still caught glances of the large tapestries on the walls, the guards in full plate armor standing at regular intervals, and the huge gilded chandeliers overhead that managed to make the stone castle brighter than the plastered brick hallways in the palace of Shi-Ha, which were only lit by wall sconces.

Her mother had been right: Hyrule looked to be a very rich place.

"In here, Reni," the queen said, hurrying ahead to a door and opening it for him. "I have a room ready for her."

He carried Amichen into a large room which was on the front corner of the castle. There was a wall of recessed windows that looked out over the city to the south, and another wall of windows that looked east.

Renault gently laid Amichen on the bed, but when he stood up, he caught sight of her torn and bloodied clothing and he froze, staring.

The queen patted him on the arm. "Reni, go."

He stood rooted to the spot. Amichen began to grow uncomfortable under his stare and she curled up on her side, hiding herself.

"Reni, go," his mother said more forcefully, trying to push him away. He didn't seem to notice her at all. But after a moment, he blinked out of existence.

That startled Amichen. She had, of course, seen people teleport before, but in Shi-Ha it was considered impolite to do it in front of other people; normally, if people were leaving, they excused themselves to a private place before teleporting. Likewise, if someone was bringing another person in, they did it in a separate room or deserted hallway, allowing the new guest the opportunity to walk into a public room and introduce himself properly.

"Where did he go?" Amichen asked. It was rude to ask after someone's business, but people normally didn't leave without warning, either.

The queen's lips pressed into a thin line. "He went to his brother."

"Naissus?"

The queen shook her head. "Talent."

Amichen was confused. "Why did he go there?"

"Reni is probably the most skilled tracker alive today. He teaches tracking at the Academy." The queen looked at her. "He will track down the men who attacked you and he will bring them back."

Amichen liked the idea of the bandits being hunted down, like wild animals, but she worried about Renault, too. She didn't want Hyrule to lose another prince.

"They're dangerous," she warned. "They ambushed us. It was just . . . there was a tree across the road, and I think Naissus realized there was something wrong, but before he could do anything, they were shooting at us from all directions . . . and . . . then it was over." Tears sprang suddenly to her eyes as she thought about her lost friends.

The queen took her by the hand, holding it tightly. "I will warn him," she promised. "He won't go anywhere without a large force."

Amichen nodded a little, but she still couldn't shake a feeling of unease.

The queen discreetly glanced at her, then she looked to the maid who was waiting just inside the bedroom door.

"Will you send for my midwife and draw a bath? Warm—not hot."

The maid nodded, then hurried out of the room.

"Midwife?" Amichen asked. Then she was suddenly seized with another panic. "Oh, no. No. No, no, no!"

The queen leaned down, hugging her tightly—perhaps more to keep her restrained than to impart comfort. "Shh, Amichen."

"No," Amichen wailed, before bursting into loud, racking sobs.

"Shh, darling, shh," the queen said, gently stroking Amichen's dirty and disheveled hair. "I just want her to look at you. She'll know best how to help you."

Amichen continued to sob so violently, it felt as if she was going to tear her own body apart; only the queen kept her from flying into pieces.

The thought that she might be now be with child was a thought that was too horrible to contemplate.

"I want to die," she wailed. "I want to die."

The queen rubbed her back, not saying anything; she just let her cry.

Slowly, Amichen cried herself out. When she was done, the queen laid her back against the pillows, then got up and went to the other side of the room where the maids were preparing a bath.

She returned a moment later with a wet cloth and she sat down beside Amichen again and began to wipe her tear-streaked face clean. The cloth was warm and soothing—just like the queen.

Amichen found herself looking at the older woman. She had a round, almost plump face, although her figure was still shapely—ten children notwithstanding. Her hair was black and wavy and fell nearly to her thighs in a thick cascade. There was some gray at her temples and forehead, but only a few gray hairs elsewhere. Her eyes looked blue when she sat in the shadows, but looked green when the light shone on them.

She was a very pretty woman, but what was most attractive about her was the kindness that seemed to radiate from her. She was a woman who was capable of a lot of love.

"You're from Erenrue, aren't you?" Amichen asked.

"Yes." She cocked her head, looking at Amichen. "Does that bother you?"

"No. I . . . had just heard that many people there have black hair, while Hyrulians tend to be fair."

"In general, yes. But there are more than a few in our family here who have dark hair—namely because it was brought in with the Erenrue blood. Look at Reni," she pointed out.

Amichen hadn't thought about it before—at least not consciously—but he didn't look like either of his brothers or his father. His hair was black and curling and his eyes a greenish-gray. He was tall—probably taller than any of them—but slender and slightly built. But now that she compared him to the queen, she could see that he took after his mother—and presumably her side of the family—very much.

The queen finished wiping Amichen's face and she set the damp cloth aside. Amichen felt a little better, although her eyes ached from so much crying.

The queen held Amichen's hand again. "I'm Maris, by the way. And you met my husband, George, and Reni, and I assume you met Talent."

"Sort of," Amichen said.

"Yes, it's hardly the introduction I had planned for you when you arrived," the queen said. Then she took a deep breath, as if trying to keep control of herself.

"I don't know what we're going to do," she admitted, "but we _will_ take care of you. You don't have to worry about that."

She leaned down closer and gently stroked Amichen's hair. "I know it's hard to live, but you mustn't die on us," she whispered. "We've lost so many of our boys; let's not lose you, too."

Amichen felt her heart rise a little. She felt that Queen Maris really did care about her. Even though they had just met, she knew that the other woman really would be heartbroken if she died and would grieve for her as if she was her own child.

There was something about her that reminded Amichen of the beautiful woman in her dream. She wondered if the dream had been something like a premonition, promising her that she would find kind people in Hyrule who would take care of her.

A short time later, the midwife came in. She was an older woman, on the backside of middle-age, and she had a firm, businesslike manner that made her seem competent, rather than uncaring.

She took one look at Amichen's bloodstained robes and frowned. "I've seen this before," she said in a low voice.

The queen looked up at her in horror. "That time . . ?"

"Yes."

Amichen was confused. Had those bandits violated and murdered before? And if so, why had no one put a stop to them? "'That time?'" she questioned.

Queen Maris glanced at her. "We had . . . some criminals . . . a couple of decades ago. A band of men who . . . who went around abusing girls." She spoke every word as if it was physically painful for her to say. It was clear that, as queen, she was deeply ashamed that such savages had ever lived in her kingdom. "Four girls were attacked before we caught them."

"Two were from my village," the midwife said. "I treated them."

She put the satchel she was carrying on the bedside table and started pulling out some little packets of herbs. "I will need a cup of hot water," she said. "Hot, but not boiling."

The queen nodded to one of the maids, who appeared to be listening in. "Get that, please."

The maid bobbed a curtsey. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, before hurrying out.

"I knew you would know what to do," the queen said, turning back to the midwife.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Another maid came up to the queen and curtseyed. "The bath is ready, Your Majesty."

"Thank you. You are dismissed."

The maid and her three companions left, shutting the door behind them.

"I thought a bath would do her some good," the queen said, resuming her conversation with the midwife. But the older woman shook her head.

"No, she will be too injured for that. You must treat her as if she has just given birth; it will be many days before she heals completely. No bath for a few days."

One of the maids came in again a few minutes later, carrying a goblet of water.

"That will do," the midwife said, taking it from her. The queen dismissed the woman again while the midwife began pouring small amounts of herbs into the water.

"What are you making?" the queen asked.

"Something for sleep."

A couple of minutes passed before the midwife declared that the medicine was ready. "Drink all of this," she said, offering the cup to Amichen. "It will make you sleep."

The queen took the cup from her and helped Amichen sit up. Then she tenderly held the cup to Amichen's lips. "Drink it all, darling," she gently cajoled.

Amichen felt tears in her eyes again. Naissus' mother was so sweet and loving, she wished Maris was her mother. But now, she didn't even have hope that she would be her mother-in-law.

Everything she could have ever wanted in her life had been snatched from her mere days before she could have finally received it.

She couldn't think like that or she would start crying again and she might never stop.

She drank the last drop of the bitter liquid under the queen's watchful eye. "There's a good girl," the queen said, handing the cup back to the midwife and laying Amichen back down.

Amichen's hand found the queen's. "Stay with me," she whispered.

"I will," she promised.

It didn't take the medicine long to take effect. Soon, Amichen felt dizzy and her eyelids grew heavy. She closed her eyes, drifting away into what promised to be a deep and dreamless sleep.


	9. A Mother's Love

Tolling bells woke Amichen up against her will. When she opened her eyes, she found herself alone in the bedroom. There was a single candle burning on the table next to the bed and bright moonlight streamed through all of the windows. No one had thought to pull the curtains closed.

Between the slow tolling of the bells, Amichen thought she heard voices outside. She pushed back the covers to find that she was wearing underwear and a white linen nightgown trimmed in lace and embroidered around the neckline in delicate white silk.

Apparently the midwife and Queen Maris had cleaned her up and dressed her while she was in the drug-induced sleep. Amichen felt another wave of gratitude and love for the queen who had spared her the humiliation of being disrobed, examined, and pitied.

Amichen got to her feet and shuffled across the room. The medicine she had been given dulled her pain to a general feeling of soreness, but she was still weak and wobbly when she tried to walk.

She made it to one of the windows that overlooked the courtyard and gingerly sat down in the recess and looked down. Despite the fact that it felt quite late at night, there were many torches and braziers lighting the courtyard and there was a knot of people gathered there. Riders were slowly coming through the gate. Men and horses both drooped as if they were exhausted.

Then the wagons began rumbling up the paved drive. From her high vantage point, Amichen could see the shrouded figures laid out in the back of the wagons.

It took three wagons to haul all the dead.

The wailing and sobbing grew louder as each body was carefully unloaded, laid on a bier, and the winding sheet was pulled back, revealing the face.

She saw a blond-headed man—she thought it was Talent—dismount and walk over to the king and queen. He hugged both of them, and the queen, especially, seemed to hold him tight. He spoke briefly to his father, then headed into the castle, looking as if he was barely able to walk from exhaustion.

Groups of people surrounded all but one of the bodies—which Amichen assumed was Hashin's, since there was no one in Hyrule to mourn her. The families knelt beside the deceased, touching them, sobbing, and holding each other for comfort. After a few minutes, the queen and king went to each family and put their arms around them and appeared to speak to them. But even as they offered the grieving families comfort, Amichen could see them both wiping tears from their own eyes.

Amichen was too far away to distinguish one body from the next, but in her mind, she saw each young man as he had been, laughing and smiling and so eager to enjoy life—and eager that she should enjoy it as well. She had been with them for not quite two weeks, but they had taught her more in that brief time than she had learned in sixteen years of instruction and study. She had started to learn who she really was and how to really live—and that was more important than anything she had ever gotten from a book.

She turned away from the window, unable to watch or listen to any more.

She stumbled back to the bed, crawled in, and covered her head with the covers, trying to block out the sound of people crying. But the more she tried not to think about it, the more she found herself dwelling on her lost friends and soon she was sobbing, too.

Quite some time passed—long enough for Amichen to cry herself out—when she heard the bedroom door open. She listened closely to the soft footsteps across the carpeted floor. Then there was a slight creak of wood, as if someone had sat down in a chair.

Amichen waited, but whoever was in her room never said anything. She grew nervous and finally she pulled the covers off her head and turned to look.

Queen Maris was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bedside table. She had a book in her hands and was leaning close to the candlelight to read it. Her lips moved silently as she read, almost as if she was praying.

Amichen was confused as to why the queen would be sitting up so late, reading, in her room.

"Majesty?" she finally asked.

The queen started, looking up. "Oh, Amichen, I didn't know you were awake."

She put her book down on the table and went to sit on the bed beside Amichen. "I hope I didn't wake you," she said.

Amichen shook her head. "No. I was already awake."

The queen leaned down, gently stroking Amichen's hair. "I'm sorry I had to leave you. Talent came home with . . . with the others," she said. "I had to speak to the families."

"I know; I watched from the window."

"Five of our nephews, Amichen!" the queen said in horror. "I knew them all from the time they were just little boys. They stayed here more often than they stayed in their own homes. We used to joke about them—and Naissus—running around like a herd of wild colts—always laughing and playing and making mischief. We watched them grow into fine young men, so full of life—the hope of a new generation of our nobility.

"And now they're all gone," she ended in a whisper. "It . . . it is just impossible to comprehend. How could five young men be gone so suddenly? And not just them, but three of our squires, as well—boys just a year or so away from becoming knights. Eight young men cut down in the flower of their youth. And Naissus, too."

The queen pulled a rather damp-looking handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and began dabbing at her eyes.

Amichen felt a chill go through her. "Naissus . . . is dead?"

"No, thank all the gods," the queen said with a sniff, "although he still hasn't woken up. The doctor is worried about the blow he took to his head—he fears it might be causing his brain to swell—but the longer he lives, the more likely he is to recover. But . . . he may not be right in the head after this, he said. And he's going to lose sight in his left eye and maybe lose the use of his left arm. He will be permanently crippled. But at least I won't be burying him tomorrow."

She hid her face in her handkerchief and began crying again.

Amichen reached out and touched her hand; the queen gripped it tightly. But a moment later, she dried her tears, forcing her grief down with her sense of duty.

"I'm sorry," she told Amichen, wiping her red nose.

"Don't be. I have cried as well."

"Yes, but you . . ." She stopped herself, but Amichen knew what she would have said: you have more reason to cry.

The queen took a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself, then she squeezed Amichen's hand again. "Are you in pain?" she asked.

"No, not really," Amichen said. She was alright, so long as she was lying down.

"If you hurt, say so," the queen said seriously. "Don't suffer because you're worried about appearances or anything silly like that."

Amichen shook her head. "It's better than it was before. I really don't hurt unless I move."

"Alright. But promise me you'll tell me if you start to hurt again."

Amichen nodded.

"Is there anything else you need? Do you want something to help you sleep?"

Amichen considered slipping back down into blissful unconsciousness—far from her grief, humiliation, and pain—but a sharp stab in her stomach warned her not to.

"Actually, I'm a little hungry," Amichen said. "I haven't eaten in quite a while."

The queen quickly rose. "Oh, yes, of course. I am so sorry I didn't think to offer you food earlier."

Before Amichen could say anything, the queen swept out of the room. She returned a minute later, though. "Something is being brought up right now," she said, as she resumed her place by Amichen's side. "I'm so sorry."

"Please, don't apologize. I didn't even realize I was hungry until just now."

In less than ten minutes, a maid came in carrying a tray filled with food—more than Amichen could ever hope to eat. She scooted up in bed and the queen herself placed the tray on Amichen's lap.

"I can't eat all of this," Amichen warned.

The queen smiled a little. "I don't expect you to, darling. Just eat whatever you like."

Amichen looked over the wide selection of appetizers and snacks and realized it had been prepared in the hopes of tempting her appetite; anything she could possibly want seemed to be represented.

She began eating some figs, while the queen poured a glass of wine for her.

"Do you like figs?" she asked, taking note of Amichen's selection.

"Yes, very much."

The queen picked up a cracker, spread it with some soft white cheese, then put another smear of some dark, jelly-like item on top of that.

"Try this," she said, offering it to Amichen.

Amichen took a bite of the cracker, then her eyes went wide. "This . . . this is possibly the best thing I have ever tasted," she declared.

The queen actually chuckled, then sat down beside her again. "Fig preserves on top of white goat cheese. That's a favorite appetizer here at court."

"I love sweet and salty things together," Amichen said. "A lot of our dishes in Shi-Ha are sweet and sour, and I like that, too."

The queen picked up another cracker. "Then you'll like this, I bet," she said as she added more goat cheese then a green jelly and handed it to Amichen.

Amichen was so surprised when she bit into it, she impolitely spoke through a mouthful of food. "This is so good!"

"That's hot pepper jelly. A lot of people like the combination of sweet and hot—although it doesn't sound like it would be good at all."

The queen continued to feed her. Amichen managed to talk her into eating a little, too, and it was almost like having a meal together.

Once she had a full belly—and a couple of glasses of wine—Amichen started to yawn. The queen rang for a maid to come and clear the dishes away.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" the queen asked.

Amichen squirmed a little, desperately wanting her to stay, but not wanting to impose on her. She had already been generous beyond measure.

"I don't want you to have to sit up all night," Amichen said. "I'm sure you will be busy tomorrow."

"Amichen, darling, I am here for _you_. You come first. Now, do you want me to stay with you?"

Amichen felt tears well up in her eyes again and she was at a loss for words for a minute; Naissus' mother was really too sweet to believe. No wonder he had been so anxious to get home after being away for nearly a month. Who wouldn't want to come home to such a loving, doting mother?

"I will stay," the queen said, taking Amichen's silence for her being too shy to actually say "yes."

She blew out the candle, slipped off her shoes, then crawled into bed beside Amichen. "There now," she said in her soft voice. "I can stay with you and sleep, too. That's the best of both worlds, isn't it?" Then she pulled Amichen close, cuddling her as if she was a small child.

Amichen lost the fight against her tears and they began to roll down her face. "I wish you were my mother," Amichen blurted out in a choked voice.

The queen stroked her hair. "Oh, darling, don't say that," she gently chided. "It would hurt your mother to hear you say that."

"If you asked her, she would probably say she wishes I was your child, too," Amichen said bitterly. "I have never been anything but a disappointment to her."

"A disappointment?" the queen said, shocked. "Amichen, why on earth do you say that?"

"Because it's true."

She actually laughed. "Amichen, you're being quite silly. Why, your mother was nothing but complimentary when she wrote to us about you. She said how beautiful you were and how educated. She said you were quiet and retiring, but very sweet-tempered, faithful, and obedient. And she said that you had no stomach for politics, which is why she thought it would be better for you to look for a husband outside of Shi-Ha.

"As soon as we heard all of that, we knew that you would probably be a good partner for Naissus, who is all of those things, too."

Amichen was a little surprised; she didn't think anything her mother said was actually a lie, but she also didn't think her mother believed her own words; she only said what was necessary to get Amichen a husband.

"My sister has always been better than me," Amichen said. "Everyone at court says so—my mother says so—all the time."

The queen hesitated for a moment. "Every child is different," she said. "I have ten children, and each of them is different from the others. But I love each of them for their uniqueness. Talent has always been conscious of his future role and was always so serious and mature when he was a little boy. He is noble and self-sacrificing—everything you would want in your future king. Laertes is the quiet one in the family and the great thinker. You can give him any problem and he will think on it for a long time, then give you a well-reasoned answer that considers all possible outcomes. Reni is my sweetheart; he is the most loving of all my children—so friendly and quick to love everyone. Yasi is my bold one. She's always led by doing—being something of a daredevil in the process—while Amaranta is the exact opposite: quiet and content to study, embroider, and play music. She's a homebody who doesn't like to travel or even go out very much. Dellie is the quick-wit in the family; she always has a joke or well-timed quip that will make everyone laugh. Marie is the mother hen; she's always taken care of the younger children and she loves a baby better than anything else in the world. Naissus . . ." she laughed a little. "You never really know what to expect from Naissus. He's quiet and shy sometimes, and at other times, he's mischievous and adventurous."

Amichen couldn't help but think of herself. She was shy at court and rarely spoke in public, but she had found she loved travelling, and when she was in the company of friends, she found her voice. It was like being around certain people activated an entirely different part of herself that she didn't even know lay dormant within her.

"Kelsie is the real princess in the family," the queen continued. "She likes to dress up and be waited on and spoiled—especially by her brothers. And Tosh . . . Tosh goes her own way; she's very independent. When she was just a little thing, we would lose her for hours at a time; we'd turn the castle upside down looking for her. Then she would just appear, out of thin air, and be very unconcerned by all the fuss. We finally just had to accept that she goes off to do her own thing and she'll come back when she wants to—like a cat," she added with a laugh.

"So, you see," she concluded, "each child is unique. Each child has their own strengths and weaknesses. While your sister might be better suited to be queen of Shi-Ha, that doesn't mean that your mother doesn't love you for who you are."

"She never said as much," Amichen replied sourly.

The queen stroked her hair again. "Some people have trouble talking about love," the queen admitted. "But that doesn't mean they don't feel love.

"If your mother didn't love you, she wouldn't be on her way here now to be with you," she added.

Amichen wanted to believe that, but a nagging doubt—nurtured during sixteen years of negative words and negative glances—told her that it wasn't true. Perhaps her mother was coming to give the king and queen a piece of her mind—to shout about their inability to keep her daughter safe—to demand monetary compensation for the loss of her daughter's chastity, which would render her unmarriable in Shi-Ha and a permanent stone around her neck—a useless princess that needed to be housed, clothed, and fed.

Amichen could believe that about her mother, but she could never believe that her mother was coming to comfort her. The only maternal comfort she could expect to get would be here, in Hyrule. And in two weeks, when her mother came to get her, even that small comfort would be gone and she would go back to Shi-Ha, hidden away even more than before.

Now she wasn't just human and an all-around disappointment; she was, as her mother had said, defective merchandise. And everyone would want to forget that she had ever been returned.


	10. Funeral

There were too many arrangements to be made for the funeral to have it the following day. If each of the boys had died individually, in their own time, then they would have been buried by their families and life would have moved on. But the murder of five members of the Blood Royal and three squires—two of whom were noblemen in their own right—was a shock that rippled through the entire kingdom. People who didn't even know them were moved to tears at the mere thought of their loss and they were viewed as something close to martyrs.

Amichen watched from her bedroom window as people came and went from the castle. The queen had to absent herself to handle the details, so Amichen was alone. The queen offered to have one of her daughters sit with Amichen, but Amichen brushed her offer aside. She knew the entire royal family was trying to help with the arrangements, even while anxiously watching over Naissus—who was still not awake—and following Reni's progress as he and his group of men traveled north, trying to catch up to the murderers.

They had enough on their plate to worry about without also worrying about Amichen. Besides, she spent most of the day in bed, trying to sleep away the dark emptiness inside her.

Early the following morning—before it was even light outside—Amichen was woken by a blonde-haired girl dressed in black. The color was so severe against her fair complexion, she looked like a ghost. "Mother asked me to bring you one of my dresses since she thinks we're close to the same size," the girl said.

"A dress?" Amichen asked stupidly, still half-asleep.

"To wear to the funeral. If you want to go," she hurried to add. "You certainly don't have to go if you're still . . . injured." she said a bit awkwardly.

Amichen thought about the five young men who had so quickly become her friends. If she had been the one to die on the road, certainly all of them would have accompanied her to her burial—even if they had to go all the way back to Shi-Ha.

"I will go," Amichen said, pushing back the covers.

Naissus' sister left and a couple of maids dressed Amichen. She had thought that the Hyrulian dresses that the women wore were beautiful, but being put into a similar one felt strange to her, having only worn robes all of her life. The dress they put her into was fitted through the body—rather snugly, as apparently she was a little bustier than Naissus' sister—with silver buttons up the front that glinted against the austere black. It had a wide neckline that was practically off the shoulders, and which plunged a little low in the front—just enough to see the top of Amichen's cleavage, which was all the more noticeable for the tight fit. The skirt flared from the hips and was held out with several layers of crinoline.

Amichen felt rather exposed in the dress. She was used to wearing multiple layers over her linen shift; now she just had one layer over her shift, and it clung to her like a second skin. She was showing more skin above her bust than she had ever shown before her in her life, and even her hands felt naked without long sleeves covering them.

"This . . . seems . . . a little revealing," Amichen said as she looked at herself in a mirror. It seemed as if a stranger was looking back at her. A beautiful, exotic stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

"It's not revealing, Your Highness," one of the maids said. "All the ladies wear dresses like this at court."

"I'm sure it's quite lovely at court, but for a funeral?"

"We didn't have black dresses enough for everyone," the maid confessed. "It's been so long since there was a death in the Royal Family, the girls have all outgrown their mourning gowns. We had to dye a few old gowns black because there wasn't time to make anything new."

Amichen didn't object any further.

The sun was just starting to rise when the maids escorted her downstairs to the foyer where the rest of the household was gathering. It looked strange to see every person, save the servants, dressed in black.

The queen saw her almost immediately and hurried over. "Amichen, thank you so much for joining us."

"It's the least I could do," she said, her voice choking up. She wanted to say something about how all the boys had been her friends—and how Rodger, especially, had taken her under his wing—but she found she couldn't speak at all. But the queen's eyes said that she understood.

Then the queen looked her over. "I see Yasi's dress fits you. It looks very lovely on you."

"Thank you for loaning it to me."

The queen waved her thanks away. "You are part of our family; of course we will clothe you."

Amichen puzzled over what she meant by "part of the family;" did she think that Amichen and Naissus had been married in Shi-Ha? But surely not. Obviously Naissus had been in communication with her on their return trip and Amichen couldn't imagine him lying to his mother. Maybe the queen didn't know that Amichen had not yet accepted Naissus' proposal and she thought them properly engaged.

But even then, they would surely not want to go through with the marriage now . . . would they? Of course, if Naissus didn't recover, it would be quite impossible anyway, but even if he did, Amichen couldn't imagine that he—or his family—would still want her.

"How is Naissus today?" Amichen asked.

"He woke up yesterday evening," the queen said, her voice full of cautious hope. "He wasn't coherent, but he did wake up. The doctor said that was a good sign; the swelling in his brain must be going down. We were able to get some broth into him, too, so that's good."

A moment later, the Master of Protocol came in and began organizing the assembly accordingly. Contrary to any other royal function or procession, the royal family was actually not in the lead. That honor was reserved for the immediate family of the deceased. Rodger was the highest-ranking nobleman among them, so his sister and two younger brothers went first. Then there was Walcott's parents and siblings. There was a brief question about Arlen and Bodi's status, since they were both of similar rank, but it was decided that Arlen's family went first, since they were descended from the king's father's third-eldest brother and Bodi's family came from his fifth-eldest brother. Seymour's family went next, followed by the three families of the squires. The family of the one who had been common-born looked quite nervous at being in a procession with so many nobles—and ahead of the queen and princesses—but the queen spoke to them and assured them that they should be there with all of the others.

"We are all family today in our grief," she said quietly.

After the primary mourners were arranged, the rest of the royal family fell into line with practiced ease: the queen, followed by the wives and children of each of her sons, then the princesses. The king and princes were conspicuously absent. Amichen knew Reni was gone, but she hadn't heard that Talent and their other brother had joined him. And certainly the king would not be allowed to do anything so dangerous. Amichen concluded that he—and possibly the others—must be participating in the funeral in some other way.

When the Master of Protocol came to Amichen, he hesitated. She was a princess, but she was also just a guest.

"We'll put you here behind Princess Tosha," he said, gesturing to the youngest princess.

"No, no, she is our guest and an ambassador of the Queen of Shi-Ha. And she is Naissus' betrothed. She doesn't walk at the back." Then queen waved Amichen forward. "Here, walk with me."

Hesitantly, Amichen stepped up beside the queen, who linked her arm in Amichen's. Amichen was pleased to be standing with her, but she felt awkward being at the head of the line in front of all the Princesses Royal. At home, even though she was the eldest daughter, she still had to process behind her sister, who was the heir apparent.

She worried that the princes' wives and sisters would resent her for usurping their place; if she had actually been married to Naissus, she would have to walk near the back of the line, since he was one of the youngest royals. But when she dared a backwards glance, she didn't see anyone glaring at her—as she would expect at Shi-Ha's court if she had been granted such an unusual honor.

Talent's wife saw her looking back and she gave Amichen a warm smile. Even the women who had married into the family seemed as pleasant as everyone else.

"Did we not give Princess Amichen a crown?" the queen asked.

"I'm sorry," Yasi called from further back in the line. "I didn't think about it."

"Go fetch a crown," the queen told the Master of Protocol. He hurried away, as if he had been caught in a failure.

Within minutes, he came back with several different crowns and he handed them to Amichen to try on. She felt self-conscious trying on crowns while everyone else—including the grieving families—waited on her.

"This one is fine," she said, settling for the first one that fit her head reasonably well. It wasn't until she had turned back to the line that she noticed that all of the other women were wearing very simple circlets, devoid of jewels. Even the queen's crown was unadorned.

Unfortunately, the crown that Amichen had picked had been heavily ornamented with jewels and pearls. But there was no time to exchange it; everyone was moving out of the hall and into the cool dawn air.

They paused outside on the steps. Then, from the western part of the courtyard came a line of men, all dressed in full plate armor. There were two lines of them, and each carried a long pillar candle on a tall golden post.

Then, in the middle of their lines came eight pallbearers carrying a bier. Four of them on one side had metal crowns riveted onto their helmets; Amichen now knew where the king and his sons were. Even Reni had come home for the funeral.

The knights marched past the line of mourners and took their place at the head of the cortege. Even in the dim morning light, Amichen could see Rodger's pale, peaceful face where he rested on top of the bier dressed in a full harness of armor with his sword clasped in his hands.

With the knights leading the way, the cortege began to process through the courtyard, towards the main gate. The castle staff and guards were lined up on either side of the drive, silently watching as they passed. More than a few appeared to be crying. Rodger had grown up in the castle with Naissus and he had always been a favorite.

As the procession began to pass through the main gate of the castle, bells around the town slowly began tolling again.

Amichen leaned into the queen. "Where are the rest?" she whispered. So far, the only body being carried was Rodger's.

"They're already at the monastery," the queen replied. "Only the royal family and the Knights of Hyrule are given a public funeral procession.

The streets of the town were packed with people silently watching the final procession of Sir Rodger, Duke of Summerfield. As his bier passed, the onlookers put a hand to their lips, then gestured outwards, as if offering their kiss.

They walked through the silent streets as the day grew brighter. When they passed out of the city gates, the sun rising in the east blinded them and they had to shield their eyes from the sunlight.

The monastery where they were destined was just outside the walls, but Amichen was already exhausted and growing sorer by the time they reached it. She was glad she had the queen's arm to lean on.

The Sanctuary inside the monastery was dim. The rays of sunlight filtered through stained glass windows and made beautiful patterns of color on the floor, like jewels. In front of the High Altar there were eight biers with shrouded figures on them. The knights put Rodger's bier at one end, then carefully placed his helmet on his head, covering his face. Then they moved out in two columns—one down either outside aisle of the Sanctuary—and took up guard positions there while the rest of the mourners filed in and filled the front benches. The benches farther back were already filled with more distant relatives and friends.

"Your mother told us that she wanted to take your maid back to Shi-Ha," the queen whispered to Amichen once they were seated. "So we had her embalmed and she will stay in the crypt until your mother can take her back."

Amichen nodded a little. She knew Hashin—so fiercely loyal to queen and kingdom—would much prefer being buried at home. There was even a special crypt on the palace grounds were the most devoted servants were buried. It was only fitting that she should rest there instead of in a foreign land.

The Abbot of the monastery gave the eulogy. Amichen stared at her hands in her lap and concentrated on not listening. All around her, people were giving into their grief and sobbing into their handkerchiefs, but Amichen didn't want to break down again. She felt if she cried one more time, she would never be able to stop. There was a darkness inside her that begged her to join it—to give up on living and sink into the peace of death. She purposefully ignored it, but it was still there—just like the Abbot's speech—if only she would listen to it. And to cry again, she felt, would be all the fuel it needed to grow louder and more insistent until she could no longer ignore it. So she concentrated on keeping her mind blank so she felt and thought nothing.

After a time, everyone rose to their feet and the knights moved forward and picked up Rodger's bier again and went through a door under the High Altar. More knights came forward and picked up another bier and took it through the door. The assembly stayed on their feet, silent, as five of the biers were taken through the door. Then three more were picked up and carried out of the Sanctuary. The mourners—Amichen recognized them as the families of the squires—followed them out; apparently they were to be buried elsewhere. Finally, the last bier—which Amichen assumed to be Hashin's—was taken through the door, followed by the remaining knights, who were still carrying candles.

The remaining principal mourners moved into the center aisle, reassembled their procession, then went through the door under the altar.

Inside, there were candlestands lighting the crypt. Amichen saw the knights putting Hashin's bier in an empty section, where apparently it would stay until her mother could take her back to Shi-Ha. But that crypt was obviously not the destination of everyone else, because there was no sign of the other bodies.

The queen guided Amichen to a set of stairs located in the center of the crypt. They went down them into a large circular room where a few of the knights stood with their candles, illuminating the stone room. There were fifteen doorways around the perimeter of the room and, in the center, there was one double tomb effigy.

Amichen glanced at the effigy as she passed it, then she stopped suddenly, staring at it.

It was the two beautiful people who had spoken to her in her dream.

The carved figures had been painted in colors so lifelike, it looked as if they were real people lying there, about to get up. The woman had the same long blonde hair and gray eyes as the woman in Amichen's dream. The man had dark blond hair and blue eyes, but oddly, he had four faint white streaks across his left cheek, like scars; she didn't recall seeing that on the man in her dream. But the figure on the tomb was dressed in a very similar-looking green tunic, so she was quite sure they were one in the same. Perhaps she just hadn't noticed his scars because he seemed to glow with an inner light.

The female figure was wearing a different dress, though. The one depicted on the tomb was white, with a bodice that had been gilded to resemble a brocade of cloth-of-gold. Around the hem of the dress was silver gilding, mimicking embroidery, and hanging down from the bottom of the bodice was an odd sort of rectangular apron in blue which was gilded with the arms of Hyrule and Erenrue in gold and silver.

The man and woman had their hands clasped tightly between them. In the man's left hand, he gripped a real sword. In the woman's right hand was a real bow, but unstrung.

Amichen stared for several long moments before the queen spoke to her. "That's Link and Zelda," she said.

Amichen was rather surprised. There was a picture of Link and Zelda in the portrait hall at the castle in Shi-Ha, but it was one of a large series depicting their adventures and fights against the demons. The one in Shi-Ha was of their fight against the dragon in the Southern Desert and the dragon took up most of the picture. Link and Zelda, who had their backs to the viewer, were tiny figures in comparison, showing how desperate their fight was against the huge demon.

She had never seen a representation of them that showed their faces.

"I saw them," Amichen whispered. "I talked to them."

"What do you mean?" the queen asked.

"When I was in the forest—after the attack. A beautiful woman and man came to me and told me that I needed to live—they begged me to live. And they told me that Naissus was alive and that I needed to take care of him—that we both have destinies that need to be fulfilled. It was only because of them that I woke up and took care of Naissus until help could arrive."

The queen stared at her in shock. "Link . . . and Zelda . . . came to you?"

"Yes. I'm not sure if I actually saw them or only dreamed them, but these are the people I saw," she said, pointing to the tomb. Then she shook her head. "I've never seen a likeness of them before, so I didn't recognize them at the time. But I'm certain these are the people I met."

The queen muttered a prayer, then tightened her grip on Amichen's arm. "Then maybe the legend is true," she whispered.

"What legend?" Amichen asked, turning to her.

"When Link was on his deathbed, all of his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and so forth came to see him one last time. The story is that he promised all of them that if they were ever in desperate need, he would come to help them. Most people assumed—if he even said it at all—that it meant he would reincarnate and come back as the Hero of Legend. But . . . maybe that's not what he meant. Maybe he really did intend to come back as himself—in some form or another—to help his descendants."

"But . . . why didn't he come back and warn us that there were bandits on the road, waiting to ambush us?" Amichen demanded. "Why didn't he do something to help the others? Why would he and Zelda appear to me? I'm only a human—the only one ever born to their line."

The queen looked at her sorrowfully. "I don't know why they didn't appear to anyone else—who knows what restrictions the gods may have placed on them?—but if you think that they shouldn't have appeared to you because you're human, then you don't understand them at all."

She swept her hand around the room. "Each of these passageways represents each of their children—even their adopted son, Valens. Each has a vault containing their children and their children's children and so on. This entire crypt was built just for Link and Zelda and their descendants. They are surrounded by their family for all eternity. These were people who loved their family. I don't know why they would ever be ashamed of you or anyone else for being who you were born to be."

Amichen felt the darkness within her recede. Maybe it wasn't completely gone, but it didn't seem nearly so prominent now. If Link and Zelda—of all people—had come from beyond the grave to help her, then how could she think of giving up on life?

As Amichen followed the queen through the room, she looked at the passageways and noticed that each had a name over it. She even saw one with a very familiar name: Anne-Marie. Amichen knew that Queen Anne-Marie lay alone in her crypt; unlike all the other rulers of Shi-Ha, she had ordered that her body be taken back to Hyrule and buried with the rest of her family. Even after being born in Shi-Ha, re-founding the monarchy of Shi-Ha, marrying a man from Shi-Ha, having all of her children in Shi-Ha, and living out her life there, she had still chosen, in the end, to go home to sleep eternally with the rest of her family.

Anne-Marie was said to have been a beautiful, fierce woman—the first female Knight of Hyrule. Amichen had always imagined that her ancestress was a lot like her mother: hard as nails, emotionless, and determined to be in control of everything at all times. But what if that wasn't true? What if Anne-Marie had been a warrior who nonetheless loved her family? Unlike most of the queens who eventually followed her, Anne-Marie had eight children. Had she loved them as she had been loved growing up in her large family? And if so, then where had Shi-Ha gone wrong and confused strength with coldness?

Queen Maris led the rest of the procession through a passageway marked "Zeyde." At the end of it was a smaller circular room. As with the first room, there was a lifelike painted tomb effigy in the middle. But lining the edges of the room were more tomb effigies—some depicting only a single person, some a husband and wife. Above a few were niches carved into the wall containing small coffins. Monumental brasses attached to the wall beside the niche served as a reminder of the children who had died too soon.

Next to a few of the tombs were additional doorways. When they walked past, Amichen caught a glimpse of more tombs resting in the darkness. Apparently the princes and princesses of Hyrule weren't the only people buried in the crypt; later generations built additional tombs off the main ones so that the entire catacombs spread out under the ground like a giant family tree.

Amichen was struck by that idea—that the descendants of Link and Zelda were spread out under the ground like the interconnected roots of a great tree. And their memory and legacy nourished those descendants still living on the surface, just as a tree's roots supported the living tree.

They passed through many more such rooms, travelling through a visual representation of the royal family's genealogy, slowly moving forward in time.

Eventually they came to a room that was empty, save a single tomb in the middle. "My in-laws," the queen whispered to Amichen. Here was the last queen and king of Hyrule—the king's parents.

Across the room from the entrance was another passageway and the queen led everyone into it. The families, knights, and biers were already there, along with five plain, white tombs in a tiny, roughly-hewn room. It looked unfinished.

"This was to be for me and my husband," the queen whispered in Amichen's ear as the rest of the mourners came in, having to stand close together to fit into the small room. "It takes years to carve a room out of the rock; they've been working on just this room for three years. We had no time to prepare a place for the boys, and everyone agreed they should be laid to rest together instead of separately according to their family lines. So we decided to put them here. We'll start another room for ourselves later."

The Abbot squeezed through the crowd and took his place at the head of the room. He said a brief prayer, then the pallbearers who had been carrying Rodger gently lifted him from the bier and laid him in the center tomb. They carefully arranged him so that he lay with both of his hands clasped on his sword, then, together, they lifted the heavy stone lid and placed it on the tomb, removing him from the world forever.

As he was being laid to rest, the other knights around the room began to sing a haunting song that sent shivers down Amichen's spine.

"Of all the money that e'er I spent,  
I've spent it in good company.  
And all the harm that e'er I've done,  
Alas it was to none but me.  
And all I've done for want of wit,  
To memory now I can't recall.  
So fill to me the parting glass;  
Good night and joy be with you all."

"A man may drink and not be drunk;  
A man may fight and not be slain;  
A man may court a pretty girl  
And perhaps be welcomed back again.  
But since it has so ought to be,  
By a time to rise and a time to fall,  
Come fill to me the parting glass;  
Good night and joy be with you all."

"Of all the comrades that e'er I had,  
They are sorry for my going away.  
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had,  
They would wish me one more day to stay.  
But since it falls unto my lot  
That I should rise and you should not,  
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,  
Good night and joy be with you all.  
Good night and joy be with you all."

Tears began to stream down Amichen's face. She called to mind the evenings they had spent gambling—losing money "in good company"—and the cold, rainy night when they had passed the bottle and drank together like comrades.

And what of the girls who had been in love with Rodger—those kissing cousins? Were they here, watching their hope for the future being put into the grave?

Each young man, in turn, was placed into a tomb and the lid placed on top, sealing him inside. All around the room, people were sobbing again—some not too quietly. Amichen could feel the queen shaking as silent sobs racked her body. And then she lost the fight against her own tears and she broke down, too.

She was barely conscious of being led back through the catacombs. She was no longer threatened by the darkness inside her, but that didn't lessen the mental and physical toll on her not-yet-fully-recovered body, and by the time she had made it up the stairs, she was leaning heavily on the queen's arm for support. As they exited the crypt, she staggered a little, bumping hard against the doorway.

"Amichen, are you alright?" the queen asked, sounding alarmed.

Amichen nodded a little.

"Here, sit down," she instructed, taking Amichen over to one of the front pews. Amichen collapsed there, doubled over, and cried into her hand—great racking sobs that felt like they were going to tear her apart.

She felt the queen put her arm around her and held her close, but the queen did nothing and said nothing to try and discourage Amichen's weeping.

A few moments later, Amichen heard the approach of someone wearing clanking armor. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mother," a soft voice said, "but I need to get back."

Amichen choked down her tears and glanced up to see Reni standing in front of them.

"Alright," the queen said with a thick voice.

Reni leaned down to kiss his mother and she grabbed his hand, squeezing his gauntleted fingers tightly. "Be careful," she said.

"I will."

She reached up, touching his face with her other hand. "Come back to me," she said in a whisper.

"I can't make a promise I might not be able to keep," he said seriously. "But you know I will try my best."

She nodded, fresh tears rolling down her face.

He leaned down to kiss her again. "Pray for us," he whispered, then he pulled his hand away and strode out of the Sanctuary.

The king came forward a couple of minutes later. "Reni is going back," he said.

"I know," the queen replied. "He spoke to me before he left."

"Laertes is going with him, too. Talent wants to go, but I told him no."

The queen shook her head. "No, not all of my boys."

"That's what I told him. But he's chafing. Hell, I am, too, for that matter. I'd like nothing better than to catch up with those murderous bastards and kill them, slowly, with my own hands."

"You can't go for the same reason that Talent can't go."

"I know. But I don't know if I've convinced him. You'll have to talk to him and see if you can get him to see reason."

"Ask Wissy to speak to him. If anyone can convince him, she can."

But the king shook his head. "She thinks he should go."

The queen gasped. "Surely not!"

"She said no self-respecting knight should shirk from seeking vengeance for what happened—to Amichen, in particular—and that protecting the weak is our _raison d'etre_ , and if we can't do that, then what use are we?"

The queen moaned, "Oh, Wissy!"

"I tried to tell her that I can't send every knight out—if only because we can't afford to lose many men if these bandits are leading us into an even bigger trap—and that I can't send all of my sons into battle, but she's hearing none of it.

"She should have been a knight herself," he said with grudging pride.

A moment later, Talent strode over to them. "Father, I'm going."

"Talent, no," the queen hurried to say.

"I told you no," the king repeated. "Would you disobey your king?"

"Do you tell me 'no' as my king or as my father? And before you answer that, know that if you order me to stay here, you will be causing a conflict between my duty to you, as my king, and my duty as a knight. Please don't put me into that situation."

The king sighed heavily and looked away.

The queen tried pleading her cause. "Please, Talent, stay. I can't have all my boys gone."

"You still have Naissus."

"Yes, and look what happened to him. I can't suffer that again."

"Reni and Laertes are going whether I go or not. So you may end up suffering whether I go or not."

"But . . . don't you see that's why one of you has to stay behind?" she pleaded. "I can't risk losing all of my boys."

"Then keep Reni behind; he's the youngest."

"He's also the best tracker we have."

"I cannot sit at home, safe, while my younger brothers risk themselves. It's my job to look after them. Naissus has already suffered; I have to do what I can to protect Reni and Laertes."

"Please . . ." the queen begged.

He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "Mother," he said, looking at her quite seriously, "I have to do this for me—for my own sense of honor—and for my brothers. I have to do this for Naissus and Amichen, too," he added, glancing towards Amichen. "Father wants to go, but his duty to the kingdom won't allow him to risk his life, outside of a full-scale war. So I must also go for him—to serve our family and kingdom and dispense the King's Justice on his behalf.

"I will go with or without your blessing . . . but I would rather have it."

Queen Maris glanced up at her husband, but he shook his head. "As king, I will not order you to stay," he told Talent, "because if you were anyone but my eldest son, I would let you go. And, as your father, I will not order you to do something that you feel will shame you . . . although I would _ask_ you to stay behind for your mother's sake."

Talent looked at his mother. "I am so sorry Mother, but I cannot."

She sighed, defeat evident on her face. "I don't like it, but as your father says, I can't stand between you and your honor." She pulled him close and kissed him on the forehead. "You have my blessing."

He bowed his head and kissed her hand. "Thank you," he whispered. Then he rose to his feet and kissed his father's cheek.

"Gods be with you," his father prayed, touching him on the shoulder.

"Thank you. I will keep you updated regularly," Talent promised. Then he turned and strode out of the Sanctuary.

The king sighed as he watched his eldest son leave. "There's always a price to pay when you raise your boys right. Sometimes what you want as a parent and the right thing to do come into conflict and they must choose between them. And if you've raised them right, you will come out on the losing end of that proposition."

"I don't like it," the queen said again, "but I must admit that Talent makes me proud."

"He should," the king said, nodding. "He should."

The king escorted Amichen and the queen to the entrance of the monastery. Despite having a rest, Amichen found herself still feeling weak, and she was so sore, walking was agonizing. But, thankfully, they didn't have to walk back to the castle; the royal carriage was waiting outside for them.

The king helped both women into the carriage, then Talent's wife, Wyliss, and her two children also got in. The king left—intending to ride back with the remaining knights—and the carriage started back to the castle.

"I hear you encouraged Talent to leave," the queen accused Wyliss.

"Damn right I did," she said defiantly, shocking Amichen; she couldn't imagine anyone speaking to a queen like that. "If I thought I would be any use, I'd be going with him," Wyliss added.

The queen smiled a little. "George said you should have been a knight."

"I probably would have, if I had been born here."

"Where are you from?" Amichen asked.

"Erenrue."

That explained a lot. If Shi-Ha could be said to be competitive, then Erenrue was warlike. Few of their women ever fought on the field, but that didn't mean they weren't fierce when it came to a fight. They had a reputation for being as eager for war as the men. Despite the fact that it had been generations since there had been a war between any of the kingdoms, the people of Erenrue had not changed. They seemed ready to pounce on the opportunity, should one arise.

As soon as the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the castle steps, a servant came running down. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

Alarmed, the queen started up from her seat. "What?" she asked, peering through the carriage window.

"Prince Naissus is awake! And he knows where he is!"

The queen threw open the door of the carriage and flew out; it hardly seemed that she touched any of the steps. She ran across the front landing—her skirt pulled up in her hands and all dignity abandoned as she raced to her injured son.

Amichen started to get out of the carriage, meaning to go see Naissus, too, but when she stepped down, she stumbled as her knees suddenly turned to water. She would have fallen but for the footman who was quick to catch her by the arm.

"Careful of the step there, Your Highness," he said cheerfully, perhaps thinking that she had just stubbed her toe. But instead of steadying herself, she sank down until—to his great surprise—she was sitting on the bottom stair, still holding onto his arm.

"Your Highness, are you not well?" he asked, growing more concerned.

"I don't suppose so," she said. She knew she was tired and sore, but she hadn't realized she had used up what little energy reserves she had managed to build up over the previous day.

Wyliss hopped out of the carriage and sat beside her, holding her hand. "Go find one of the men," she instructed the footman. "They should be right behind us."

The footman ran off to meet the knights, who were riding in a little behind the carriages of women.

"I'm sorry," Amichen said.

"Don't you dare apologize," Wyliss said firmly. "This has been a very trying day and _I'm_ already tired. But you're not even close to well yet."

"I guess I shouldn't have gone, but I thought I was feeling better, and . . . they were my friends and I know if our fortunes had been reversed, they would have gone for me."

"Of course. They were all exceptional boys. Which just means you must be exceptional, too," Wyliss said with a smile.

Amichen shook her head. "I am anything but exceptional."

"Amichen, you saved Naissus' life when you were half-dead yourself. That's pretty exceptional in my book."

"I didn't do anything, really. I just put bandages on him—but he had almost stopped bleeding on his own anyway. I tried to lie close to him, to keep him warm, but I don't know that I did a lot of good. And I kept him hidden, afraid the bandits would come back, but they didn't, so that didn't do any good, either. In fact, I hid us so well, the search party missed us. I had to wave them down."

"That sounds like a lot to me," Wyliss argued, "especially when you were hurt."

Amichen shook her head. "It wasn't much . . . not as much as he needed."

"You provided as much as you could. And, for all we know, that's what saved his life. Had he bled out a little more, he might not have survived. Or without you to keep the chill off of him, he might not have survived. Or maybe he survived just because he felt someone near who cared about him. We may not know exactly in what way you helped him, but I _am_ certain that he's here and alive because of you."

Amichen's immediate thought was if it weren't for her, Naissus would have never left home and gotten hurt in the first place. But she didn't say so; she didn't want to Wyliss to think she was argumentative.

A moment later, the king strode up. "What's wrong?"

"Amichen is not feeling well at all," Wyliss replied for her. "She walked too much today and I think she's relapsed."

The king pulled off his helmet and handed it to a startled footman. He began to unbuckle other bits of armor and Wyliss hurriedly stood up to help him, stripping him out of it as well as any squire might do.

When he was down to just his gambeson and pants, he bent down to pick Amichen up.

"Your Majesty, you don't have to do that," she said, horrified. "I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Of course you will, because in a few minutes, you'll be in bed."

Then, before she could protest further, he picked her up and proceeded to carry her inside.

Amichen's face burned with shame. Her mother would have certainly never been so weak as to need carrying around, and the fact that the king himself was doing it just made it worse.

"I was going to see Naissus," she said, as the king carried her upstairs.

"You can see him after you've rested a bit and had something to eat," he insisted. "He'll still be here then."

"But he's awake now."

The king's step faltered. "Is he?"

"Yes. Someone came out and told the queen that he was awake and apparently he's regained his senses; he knows where he is."

The king suddenly began to move faster. "I didn't know that."

"That's why I want to go see him."

But he shook his head. "Rest a little first."

He carried her all the way to her room and laid her on the bed. Then he hurried out—no doubt heading for Naissus' room—calling orders to servants as he went.

A few minutes later, a maid brought in a tray of food and wine for Amichen to drink. "Do you need anything else, Your Highness?" the girl asked as she put the tray across Amichen's lap.

Amichen squirmed uncomfortably; it hurt to sit on the bed. "I think I need something for pain," she finally admitted.

The maid curtseyed. "The queen left instructions. I'll have it made up for you."

"Thank you."

By the time the girl returned with a beaker full of medicinal tea, Amichen had finished the plate of food. With everything else that had been going on, she hadn't realized how ravenously hungry she was.

She drank the medicine and scooted down in the bed so she was lying on her back. She intended to just give the medicine a little time to work before she got up to go see Naissus, but exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep without intending to.


	11. Naissus

Amichen awoke with a start, feeling as if she had overslept and missed something important. It took her a minute to remember what had happened to make her feel that way.

When she looked out the window, the sun was still rising in the east, so it was only about mid-morning; she hadn't slept but an hour or so. And, thanks to the rest, food, and pain medicine, she was feeling much improved.

She went out of her room, intent on seeing Naissus, but she paused in the hallway, realizing she had no idea where his room was. She felt a sudden wave of guilt; she had not visited him yet, even when she might have managed to see him for a short while.

She went up to one of the hallway guards, standing as silent as an empty suit of armor. "Excuse me, but where can I find Prince Naissus' room?"

"All the way to the end of this hallway," he said, pointing past the central staircase. "Then turn right and go all the way down that hallway. His is the next-to-last door on your left."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, Your Highness," he said warmly. The tone of his voice was so kind and friendly, Amichen did a double-take, as if she wasn't sure she had heard what she had heard. But he was smiling at her, so she knew she hadn't misjudged.

How odd that the Hyrulian guard should speak to her as if she was as beloved as the Royal Family.

She followed the guard's instructions, ending up on the exact opposite corner of the castle from her room. She checked to make sure that she had the next-to-last door on the left—there was no other indication that the room belonged to Naissus—then she gently knocked on the door. She didn't want to be too loud in case he had already gone back to sleep.

After a few moments—just when she was beginning to wonder if she should knock again—the queen opened the door.

"Oh, Amichen, I was just coming to check on you." She stood back, gesturing for her to enter. "Naissus has asked about you. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Amichen replied, stepping into the room.

Naissus' room wasn't much different from hers, although it was not located on the corner of the building, so he only had one set of windows, and they looked west. And there was a bit more furniture and knick-knacks, so it looked more lived-in.

Naissus lay on the far side of the bed. Amichen noticed that he wasn't sitting up, though, so obviously he was still weak and only in the beginning stages of his recovery.

"I have some things I need to attend to, so I'll leave you two to visit," the queen said, before slipping discreetly out the door.

Amichen found her sudden departure a little unsettling. Under normal circumstances, she would never be alone with a man in his bedroom, but even her mother could hardly argue there was any suspicion in it; it didn't look as if Naissus could so much as lift his head.

But more than that, she didn't really know what to say or do. Their last conversation had been about going to the moors to survey what would potentially be their new home. If Amichen liked the lay of the land, then there would only be one more thing to do—meet all of his family—before she could give him an answer to his proposal.

They had been so close to finalizing their marriage plans and now all of that was gone. How did you talk to someone about that?

Amichen slowly crossed the room to the other side of the bed and sat down in a chair that had been drawn close.

Naissus studied her silently for a moment. With a clean bandage covering the left side of his face, he didn't look so bad—at least not as bad as the last time she had seen him.

"I've never known anyone who looks good in black," he finally said, "but you do, Ami."

"Thank you." Then she smiled a little. "You know, I've missed you calling me that. I had rather gotten used to it, and it almost sounds funny to me to hear people calling me by my full name now. But I daresay everyone in your family will be calling me 'Ami' soon enough; they seem to like nicknames."

"I guess we're just lazy that way," he said without a smile. Then he sighed, as if weary of pleasantries, and he looked up at the ceiling. "So . . . you went to the funeral."

"Yes."

"How was it?"

Amichen didn't know how to answer that; a funeral was never a good thing, even if it was perfectly and reverentially executed. "It was . . ." She searched for the right word, then finally had to give up. "I don't know," she said, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I didn't listen to it. I couldn't."

"Yeah," he said sadly. Then he sighed heavily again. "Father says they have a large force trying to track those murderers down."

"Yes, your brothers all went—right after the funeral. Or, rather, the other two joined Reni; he was already out there, but he came back briefly for the funeral."

"I'm surprised Father allowed Talent to go."

"He didn't want to—and your mother especially didn't want to allow it—but Talent insisted. He said it was a matter of honor that he go. They eventually gave him their blessing."

"It _is_ a matter of honor," he said. "And if I could get out of this bed, I'd go with them and try to redeem my own honor."

"Redeem it?" Amichen asked, confused.

"I am disgraced."

"Who told you that?" Amichen demanded.

Naissus laughed bitterly. "No one told me that. No one _has_ to tell me that; I know it. I violated all the rules of knightly behavior."

"How?"

"I lived."

His answer took Amichen aback. "You . . . lived? Living is a stain on your honor?" she asked in disbelief.

"It is when all the men under your command die. It is when a woman under your protection is violated and you do nothing to stop it."

"Naissus, how could you have stopped it?" Amichen asked. "You were unconscious—and I thought dead. You can't stop anything if you're half-dead yourself."

"I should have recognized that we were walking into a trap sooner. I should have instantly been suspicious of the tree across the road, rather than walking right up to it like an idiot. I should have had someone riding ahead, scouting the way. I _knew_ that was the most dangerous part of the road. I _knew_ that there have been highwaymen there in the past. But I got lazy. Everything had been going so well—without one complication—and I became complacent. I had my mind on wooing you instead of fulfilling my primary duty to you, which was to keep you safe. I already had my mind on the future instead of being in the present.

"Those are all elementary mistakes, Ami—the sort of thing a green squire might do. But I've had _years_ of training—I'm a knight, for gods' sake; I _knew_ better. But when it came time for me to be tested, I failed. I don't deserve to be called a knight," he said miserably.

Amichen would never want to speak ill of the dead—especially not a dear friend—but she felt that Rodger would not mind her using his name if it helped ease Naissus' mind. "Sometimes you can't win every battle, even if you're a knight," she quietly pointed out. "I mean . . . look at Rodger; he was overwhelmed as well."

"It wasn't Rodger's mission!" he shouted. "It was mine. _I_ was the one in charge! He was following my command. And I got him killed!"

He suddenly broke down. "Rodger . . ." he moaned through his tears

Amichen knew that of all his companions, Naissus—just like her—had loved Rodger the best. Perhaps his sunny personality had just complimented their quiet ones the best. Or maybe everyone felt that way about Rodger because he was so easy to love and so free to give his friendship to others.

Amichen went around to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside Naissus. She put her arms around him carefully, not wanting to hurt his left arm, and she comforted him as his mother had comforted her the first evening she had been at the castle.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled between racking sobs. "So sorry."

Amichen wondered if he was apologizing for what had happened to her, what had happened to Rodger and the others, or if he was just apologizing for crying in front of her—or maybe all three at once.

She laid her cheek against his unruly blond hair and closed her eyes, silently holding him while he cried.

She was sorry for many things, too.


	12. A Hard Visit

Over the following few days, Amichen and Naissus both grew physically stronger, but the rest of the family grew increasingly worried about them. Amichen spent her waking hours in Naissus' room with him, keeping him company, and most nights she didn't leave at all—instead curling up in bed beside him in shared misery. Even the queen worried about how this would look—especially as Amichen's mother would be arriving shortly—but the king dismissed her fears.

"Nothing's happening. Neither of them is even physically capable, and Naissus wouldn't do anything anyway," he said, waving it off.

"I know that, and everyone here knows that as well," his wife argued, "but they're much more strict about appearances in Shi-Ha; her mother might not understand if she finds out about it."

"They need to do what's helpful for their recovery," the king countered. "If being together helps mend them, then I'll allow it, even if I have to fight the Tiger-Queen of Shi-Ha myself. Besides," he added, "I think Amichen is the only thing holding Naissus together right now."

The daily news from Reni and the others was certainly not encouraging. They were still trying to track down the bandits, but they had lost them somewhere near the border between Hyrule and Erenrue when a heavy downpour washed away the trail they had been following. They were now fanned out on the plains, groping around blindly for any evidence of where the marauders had gone. The lone comfort was that there really wasn't a way for the bandits to set an ambush for them, so that danger was gone. But everyone was still anxious for news that they had caught the bandits; everyone wanted to see them dragged back in chains and executed.

Amichen was with Naissus when the doctor took his bandages off for the last time. The doctor had shooed her out every day when he came to check on Naissus' wounds and change the bandages, but now that he was healed, there was no more reason to guard her against the sight; what he looked like now would be the way he would look for the rest of his life. His scars would turn white and dim over time, but they would never go away.

Amichen couldn't suppress a little gasp when the doctor took the bandage off Naissus' face and began very carefully cutting and pulling out the stitches. The doctor had done a good job of closing up the sword cut so the still-raw pink scar down the left side of Naissus' face wasn't too big, but Amichen had been unprepared to see his eye. Instead of the bright blue pupil that had been there, his eye was bisected by a mass of pink-white scar tissue that rendered him sightless.

"Is it that bad?" he asked her.

She tried to compose herself so that he wouldn't feel any worse than he did already. "I didn't know what to expect, so it surprised me," she admitted, "but, really, it's not too bad. You certainly look a lot better than right after it happened.

When the doctor finished removing the last stitch, Naissus demanded a mirror. A servant passed him a hand mirror and he spent a couple of minutes staring at his reflection, as if he wasn't sure who he was looking at and he was trying to figure the man out.

Finally, he put the mirror on the bedside table, face down. "I would like an eyepatch, please," he said quietly.

The doctor was prepared for this request and he quickly produced one from his bag. Naissus had him tie it on.

Amichen had to admit, with the eye patch on, Naissus looked much better. Now, all that was visible was the pink scar above and below it—and it would fade and be less noticeable over time. But, at the same time, she felt that Naissus was hiding a part of himself from the world—a real part of himself that he felt was too ugly to show. He wasn't wearing the eyepatch for himself; he was doing it for the comfort of others. And something about that bothered Amichen.

The doctor moved to his arm next, taking out the stitches there, too. Amichen noticed that the arrow had made a deep dimple in his arm, as if it had poked his muscle in. She wondered if it would ever fill out again or if he would have the indentation for the rest of his life. She strongly suspected the latter.

"Can you move your arm?" the doctor asked, once he had the stitches out.

Naissus tried, wincing, but only managed to move his hand a little.

The doctor took hold of his upper arm and held it still. "Try to move your lower arm," he instructed.

He moved it a fraction of an inch and winced even more. "It hurts."

"The pain should get better over time," the doctor said. "You're still healing on the inside."

"Will my mobility get better?" Naissus asked, sounding a little desperate. "I'm left-handed."

The doctor didn't reply. Instead, he continued to work with Naissus' arm, bending it at the elbow. "Does that hurt?"

Naissus flinched. "Some, but not as much as when I try to move it myself."

"That should get better," he said, sounding more confident. "Try moving your hand at the wrist."

Naissus was able to wiggle his hand around a little, but he didn't seem to have more than twenty percent of his normal range of motion.

The doctor offered Naissus his hand. "Squeeze my hand as much as you can."

Naissus gripped the back of the doctor's hand and winced, but managed a little squeeze. Amichen could tell that it wasn't much, but at least it was something.

The doctor pointed his finger towards Naissus. "Grip as hard as you can."

Naissus managed to get his fingers to close around the doctor's finger, but he didn't squeeze very hard.

The doctor nodded, then let Naissus' arm rest by his side. "I'm afraid, Your Highness, that you have permanent muscle damage—and probably tendon damage—and you will never have full mobility in your arm again."

Naissus looked stricken. "But . . . will I have some? How much?"

"I can't say until you've completely healed. There are exercises we can do, too, to try and loosen up your muscles and break up the scar tissue inside, but you will never hold a sword with that hand again, I'm sure. With some work, we might get it so that you can at least use your hand—maybe feed yourself and write. But I would recommend that you learn how to be right-handed because you will never be strong with your left arm again."

A little choked sob came out of Naissus and he quickly turned his head away so that Amichen and the doctor wouldn't see him.

The doctor looked at him with pity. "I have a sling for you to use," he offered. "It will make it easier for you to use your hand without having to move your arm. You don't have much grip strength right now, but I'm sure we can improve that."

Naissus nodded a little. The doctor took the sling from his bag and put it over Naissus' head. He tucked Naissus' arm into it, then adjusted the buckle on the strap so that his arm lay comfortably across his diaphragm.

"There, Your Highness," the doctor said, taking a step back. "Try to use your hand every day—as much as you can. The soreness will get better the more you use it. We'll wait a few more days and then we'll start working on the rest of your arm."

"Thank you," Naissus said rather glumly.

The doctor turned to look at Amichen. "And how are you doing, Your Highness?"

"Better," she replied. The queen's midwife had examined her the day before and pronounced her healed and able to return to normal activities. What was left unsaid was whether Amichen was with child. Amichen hadn't been brave enough to ask outright, and the queen seemed too sensitive to her feelings to mention it. But she had a feeling that if the midwife had been able to determine, one way or the other, she would have said something. So they wouldn't know until her time of month came around—or didn't.

What might happen if it didn't kept Amichen awake most of the night, every night. During the day, she spent her time concentrating on helping Naissus—that seemed easier than dealing with her own troubles—but when night came and he fell asleep, she was alone with her fears. But there was nothing she could do but pray.

"I'm glad to hear you're doing better," Naissus' physician said, bringing her back to the present. "If you ever need me, you only need to send for me."

"Thank you."

He and his assistant left the room and Naissus sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Amichen asked.

"What isn't wrong?" he said glumly. Then he turned to her. "Will you help me go somewhere?"

"Anywhere you like."

"I want to visit my cousins' graves," he said.

Amichen hesitated. Naissus had been in a depressive state ever since he regained consciousness. Of course, anyone would be in grief at a time like this, but Amichen feared there was something worse than grief within him. She had known darkness—she had felt it move within her, calling her to end her suffering—and she recognized its dark reflection in Naissus' face.

"No one will take me," he complained. "They say that I'm not ready for that."

"I don't think you are," she said honestly.

"You were not well, but you went to the funeral," he accused. "Mother told me that you fainted before you could get home."

"I didn't faint," she said a bit defensively. "I just had a weak spell."

"Please take me. Otherwise, I will find a way to go by myself."

Amichen wasn't really worried about him going by himself because she knew he wouldn't make it . . . today. But it was only a matter of time before he dragged himself out of his room and made it all the way to the monastery. And it would be infinitely worse if he went alone. Who knew what he might do to himself? Or he might hide himself away in the maze of tombs and they wouldn't be able to find him until it was too late.

No, better to go and make sure nothing happened to him. Eventually the darkness within him would fade—as it had for her—but it had to have time to do so.

"Alright," she finally relented. "Do you think you can ride, or do you want me to have the carriage brought around?"

He shook his head. "Neither. If Mother or Father figures out where we're going, they'll forbid it. No, we'll have to sneak out."

"Sneak out?" Amichen gasped, horrified. She had never done anything or gone anywhere she wasn't supposed to before; there were too many spies at court to ever get away with something like that and she was too afraid of what her mother would do when she found out. "What if we get caught?"

Naissus actually laughed a little. "Then Mother and Father will scold me. It won't be the first time."

Amichen still hesitated.

"Ami, surely you're not afraid of my parents?"

"Well . . . I don't know. I don't know what they're like when they're angry."

"I'm not sure if I've ever actually seen either of them angry before—not truly angry." He slowly pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he did so; his muscles were weak after so many days in bed. "Besides," he said, "it's not like they've forbidden me to go. So I'm not disobeying them . . . just doing something I know they'd rather I didn't do."

"When it comes to my mother, there's no difference," Amichen said.

He chuckled. "Yes, well, we're both glad my mother isn't like yours." He held out his good hand to her and, with a sigh, she stood up and let him take her arm and lean on it.

"How are we supposed to sneak out?" she asked as they slowly walked towards the door. "You can't walk all the way to the monastery. We'll need at least one horse, and I think someone will notice if we ride out."

"I know a shortcut."

They went down a back staircase and came out in a place that Amichen didn't recognize—not that she had seen much of the castle.

A servant carrying a tray came past them and brightened when he saw Naissus. "It's so good to see you up and about, Your Highness," he said with a smile.

"Thank you. It feels good to be out of bed, even if I'm still not one hundred percent."

"I'm sure it does, sire; I'm sure it does."

"I thought I would show Princess Amichen around the castle a little."

"Be careful you don't tire yourself out, Your Highness."

"I'll be careful." He smiled a little. "I do have an escort, though."

"True," the serving man said, smiling at Amichen. "Have a good walk, then."

"Thank you."

Once the servant was out of view, Naissus led Amichen to a non-descript door that opened onto a small circular stair.

"Let me go first," Naissus said, shutting the door, plunging them into near-darkness; only a tiny bit of light filtered down from above. "That way you can catch me if I fall backwards."

He said it like a joke, but Amichen wondered if he was being serious.

He climbed the steps slowly—even more slowly than he walked—and he put his right hand on the wall to steady himself as he went. But he made it to the top without any problems.

Amichen was surprised when they emerged on the dais of what was obviously the throne room.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"What do you remember of your history?" he asked, walking to one of the thrones.

"I don't know what you mean."

He gestured to the throne. "Push it over."

"What?" she asked, shrinking back.

"Push it forward, like you're going to push it over."

Amichen shook her head. "I can't break your father's throne!"

He laughed. "You won't break it. Trust me."

She hesitated, but he took her by the hand and pulled her closer. "Do it," he insisted, putting her hand on the back of the golden throne.

With great trepidation, she pushed on the throne, causing the back feet to rise. But as she did so, a panel in the floor at their feet began to slide forward, revealing stairs.

The throne reached a certain point, then would go no further.

"See?" Naissus said.

"Where does it go?" Amichen asked, peering down into the darkness. She could just barely make out the bottom of the stairs.

"To the monastery," he said, as if it should be very obvious. "Don't you remember the story of how Link and Zelda used to sneak out?"

"This is the passage they used?" she asked, shocked that it still existed.

"Yes. My cousins and I used it to sneak out all the time; Father finally had to station a guard in here full-time to keep us from going out when we should have been at our lessons."

The memory seemed to brighten him for a moment, but then his face darkened again, like a light had been extinguished.

"Let's go," he said, leading the way down the stairs. Amichen followed more cautiously, a little afraid of the dark and any spiders that might lurk down there.

Naissus found a lantern that had been left down there many years before and Amichen was able to light it. Then he instructed her to throw the lever on the wall, shutting the door above them and leaving them with nothing but the single lantern light.

Amichen took Naissus' arm again, although it was because she needed him more than he needed her.

"Does this scare you?" he asked.

"A little."

"There's nothing down here that can hurt us," he said, slowly escorting her down the passageway. "Think about Link and Zelda going down this very tunnel. My cousins and I used to play that we were Link and the first Knights of Hyrule. All of us wanted to be Link, so we had to draw lots to see who would get to be him each time. When Kelsie found out what we were playing, she joined us and played Zelda. She liked to make all of us wait on her," he said with a little laugh. "We kept telling her that Zelda was a self-sufficient, warrior-woman, but she preferred being helpless most of the time. She even made Rodger be her horse; he had to ride her around on his back. But he always did it without a complaint. Even then he couldn't refuse a woman."

Naissus staggered sideways and bumped against the wall. He stayed there, leaning against it as if he needed it to hold him up.

"Naissus?" Amichen asked, alarmed. She knew he was pushing himself too hard.

But it wasn't his weakness that crippled him; it was his tears. "Ami . . . how can they be gone?" he wailed. "How can they be gone?"

"I don't know," she said, holding onto him to make sure he didn't fall. "I guess it was written in their stars."

"But why?" he demanded. "Why would the gods put so many fine people—such good friends—on this earth for such a short period of time, then snatch them away?"

"I don't know, Naissus. No one knows the way of the gods."

It took him a few minutes to compose himself, but when Amichen offered to take him back, he refused, insisting on pressing on.

Shortcut or no, the walk seemed very long and Amichen began to seriously worry about Naissus. He had to stop to rest frequently, but all he could do was lean against the wall; there was no place to sit, except on the floor, and she knew that he feared—as well as she did—that if he sat down, he might not be able to get up again.

Amichen was just beginning to despair that they would never get out of the tunnel when, at last, the light of the lantern fell on what appeared to be the end of the passage.

"Push on it," Naissus instructed.

Amichen did as he said and the heavy stone door pivoted on a central pin. When Amichen held up the lantern, she recognized the first floor of the monastery crypt.

"I hope you know the way," Naissus said, taking her arm again. "I don't know where . . . where they put them," he said, his voice trailing off.

"I don't know if I remember the way," Amichen said, "but your mother said the tomb had been made for her and your father."

"I know where that will be," he said, sounding more confident. "The entire crypt is laid out like a family tree, so it's easy to figure out where to go, so long as you know all your ancestors."

They went down the stairs into the huge central crypt that belonged to Link and Zelda. Amichen found the place much more eerie this time, as there was only the single lantern lighting the way and just the two of them. It had seemed like a different place when there were knights with big candles posted at regular intervals, showing the way.

Naissus led them through the labyrinthine catacombs without any trouble. Then, at last, they came to the final crypt. Amichen held the lantern up high, casting light on the rough, unfinished walls of the small room. It looked quite different without a bunch of people in it, too. Now, it was quiet and empty, save for the five white stone sarcophagi laid out in a row across its middle. Each bore the occupant's name, and on Rodger's tomb there was an engraving of the knight's crest at the foot of the lid, but nothing else—as if it was too painful to even add dates of birth and death, much less an epitaph. In catacombs filled with monumental brasses and recumbent effigies and poetry composed to remember lost loved ones, there was something stark in the plainness and silence of these five tombs. What wasn't said spoke volumes.

Naissus stood at the foot of the tombs, gazing at them in silent horror. Then, trembling, he sank to his knees in front of Rodger's tomb. He stretched forth his hand, as if begging—or willing—them to come back. "They . . . were my brothers," he whispered. "They were my whole life." He put his forehead against the corner of the tomb and burst into deep, racking sobs that shook his entire body.

It pained Amichen to hear him hurt so much. She thought she ought to leave and give him some time alone, but at the same time, she was afraid to leave him alone with such overwhelming grief.

Besides, if she was totally honest with herself, a part of her wanted to flee from the sounds of his grief because it rubbed her own wounds of sorrow raw. But that seemed rather cowardly, so she stayed, even though tears began to flow down her face and a tightness gripped her insides.

It took Naissus a long time to cry himself out. When he was left with just sniffles and hiccups, Amichen moved towards him, to help him up. But he said something at that moment that made her blood run cold: "I wish I had died with them."

Amichen stopped, unsure what to do. That he wasn't dead might have been her doing. Did he resent her for trying to save his life? It had never occurred to her that he might _prefer_ dying—just as she had once wanted to die. She had made the decision to live, but she had never considered that by helping him, she had chosen Naissus' fate for him. And maybe she had chosen wrong.

Naissus didn't answer any of the questions running through her head. He just pushed himself wearily to his feet. He leaned heavily on the tomb, clearly unable to support his own weight.

Amichen put her arm around his waist and he put his good arm around her shoulders and together they managed to get him walking again, although Amichen was carrying most of his weight. By the time they made it to the stairs, Amichen was so exhausted, she didn't think she could move another step. Luckily, Naissus asked to sit down.

They both collapsed on the steps a heavy sigh.

"You can't walk back," Amichen said. "And I can't carry you."

He didn't respond.

"Do you want me to go back to the castle and get a horse or the carriage?" she pressed.

He covered his face with his hand. "I don't care," he said miserably.

"Well, you can't stay down here," she pointed out.

He looked up at her, his face anguished. "I ought to be in here. My tomb should be right beside theirs—in honorable death."

"So . . . I should not have saved you?" Amichen asked quietly.

He looked away. "I don't blame you . . . but I do wish I was dead. My shame is more than I can bear. I let them down, and I let you down. And now I'm too crippled to even be able to redeem myself. I'm more useless than ever."

He hung his head and began to cry again.

Amichen didn't know what to say. She didn't think he was to blame for what happened, and she didn't think anyone else thought that, either, but there seemed to be no way to convince _him_ of that.

She finally stood up. "I'm going to go get a horse. I'll be back for you."

"Take the lantern with you," he said, offering it to her.

"I can't leave you down here in the dark." The horror of staying there in absolute darkness, alone, surrounded by the dead, was too horrible to contemplate.

"You can't get out without it."

"Let me at least help you into the Sanctuary," she offered as a compromise. "You can stay there while I'm gone."

He shook his head. "I don't want to move."

"Naissus, I don't want to leave you down here in the dark by yourself."

"I want to be alone for a little while."

"Naissus—"

"Go, or I'm going to blow out this light and we'll both be here in the dark," he threatened.

Amichen hesitated, but she finally took the lantern from him. He didn't have a knife or sword or anything like that on his person, so there really wasn't any way he could hurt himself. All he could do was sit there and brood, growing more and more despondent and, frankly, he could do that anywhere; it really didn't matter where she left him.

"I'll be back soon," she promised. "Just stay here."

"I'm not going anywhere in the dark," he pointed out.

Reluctantly, she walked up the stairs. She turned back to look at him one last time, sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the fading light. Then she hurried through the upper crypt, to the secret door, and ran down the passageway as fast as she could.

Before, the passage had felt like it was very long, but that had only been because Naissus had slowed them down considerably; running, Amichen found it didn't take long to reach the end at all.

She threw the lever, blew out the lantern, then went up the stairs to the throne room. She thought about going down the back stairs, but she wasn't really sure where she would be when she got there. She expected that the front door of the throne room opened into the main hallway and she knew the way out from there.

She pushed the throne back into place, then hurried across the throne room. She took a moment to try to catch her breath before opening the door; she didn't want to raise suspicion if she saw someone in the hallway.

She took a deep breath, then opened the door and slipped out . . . right in front of the king.

"Amichen," he said with surprise.

Amichen didn't reply; she was shocked beyond words. Of all the people to run into!

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Exploring?"

She still didn't respond. Her heart was beating so hard, it felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, but her brain seemed to have gone on hiatus; she had no ability to think and form a reasonable response.

"Where's Naissus? I thought he was showing you around?" When she continued to stare at him silently, like an idiot, he grew more concerned. "Amichen? Is something wrong?"

She finally managed a nod. He took her by the arms, looking at her seriously. "What's wrong? Is it Naissus?"

She nodded a little again.

"Where is he? Take me to him."

"Will you be angry?" she finally managed to squeak out.

"Angry?" he asked, his worry turning to confusion. "Why on earth would I be angry if he's hurt?"

"He's not hurt—just tired. But . . . he's somewhere he shouldn't be."

"Amichen, you're speaking in riddles. Tell me what's going on."

She took a deep breath. "He went to the catacombs . . . to see the graves."

"Oh."

"He knew you didn't really want him to go, but he wanted to go and he asked me to take him."

"So you did."

"Yes, sir."

He sighed. "I really shouldn't be surprised; he and the others were always going places they knew they shouldn't. I just didn't realize you would aid and abet him."

Amichen felt relief that the king didn't seem mad.

"But . . . why are you coming out of the throne room?" he asked. But, before Amichen could say, realization dawned on his face. "You took the underground passage."

"Yes, sir."

He shook his head. "I don't care how old they get: your children never change." He sighed again, wearily, then gestured to Amichen. "Let's go get him."

She followed him out of the castle and over to the stables. Within minutes, two horses were tacked up and ready to go. A groom helped Amichen onto a horse while the king mounted under his own power.

Amichen rode beside him as they headed out into the city. When people saw the king riding down the street, they quickly moved out of the way and bowed their heads as he passed.

They turned a corner and found a half-loaded cart taking up half the street. The king just moved to go around it. When the driver saw him passing, he startled, then quickly doffed his hat. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said.

The king just raised his hand, waving away the man's concern, and rode on.

Amichen was fascinated by the seemingly mundane interaction—namely because it would have never happened in Shi-Ha. Her mother never rode anywhere without an escort and a great fanfare and people riding ahead and clearing the streets. But the king of Hyrule apparently didn't think anything about riding out with just Amichen at his side. And the people didn't seem terribly shocked by this—as if it wasn't an unusual occurrence.

Maybe it was because they had so many more royals in Hyrule. If they were constantly announcing the coming and going of each of the twelve members of the Royal Family—plus their spouses and children—there would hardly be any commerce on the streets.

They made it out of the eastern gate and found the traffic much reduced. It was never as busy outside the city as in it, but the attack that had left nine people dead and two grievously wounded had scared people. Until the bandits were caught, few people dared the trip to Shi-Ha—not without a large escort of hired guards. People had even stopped going to Erenrue by the eastern road since the bandits had last been seen in that area. Instead, they took the rarely-used northern road that came out near Erenrue's western shore. From there they cut back east over the empty plain. Although it was a longer route and there was no actual road across the northern plain, people felt safer.

"May I ask you something . . . as a knight?" Amichen said as they rode the short distance to the monastery.

"Certainly."

"Naissus told me a little bit about what it means to be a Knight of Hyrule—how you are trained to be very strict with your honor—that moral failings aren't allowed, and if you do slip up, you will be publicly shamed."

The king nodded.

"Will that happen to Naissus?"

The king looked at her in confusion. "Will what happen to Naissus?"

"Will he be publicly shamed?"

The king was taken aback. "For what reason?"

"For failing."

"Failing? You mean . . . the attack?"

She nodded.

"Certainly not." He sounded offended that she would even suggest it.

"I didn't think so," Amichen said. "But he has said—many times now—that he feels very ashamed of what happened; that it was his fault; that he should have known better; that he got everyone killed; that he shouldn't be a knight anymore."

But rather than look horrified that Naissus would think such a thing, the king just nodded. "That happens."

"What happens?"

"We call it 'survivor's guilt.' Sometimes things happen beyond anyone's control and people die. But those who survive feel guilty that they have survived and it eats them up inside. We're especially prone to that in the knighthood because we're conditioned to put others before ourselves and fight to the death to defend them. Sometimes, through no fault of our own, we survive, while the person who we sought to defend dies. That can cause deep feelings of shame and guilt."

"What can we do to help him?" Amichen pleaded.

"It used to be that there was nothing you could do—and, unfortunately, many of those men ended up taking their own lives. But many years ago, someone came up with a ceremony that's meant to expunge the person's guilt and it seems to help; those who have undergone it have been able to let go of their guilt and move on with their lives normally.

"I didn't realize that Naissus felt that way," he continued. "I mean, I knew that he grieved for his cousins, and that he would have to grieve for the loss of his arm and eye, but I didn't know he blamed himself."

"He does. I think he feels shame more than anything else. And I worry that he'll hurt himself—maybe even kill himself—if he doesn't get over it," Amichen confessed.

The king looked alarmed. "I will make arrangements for the ceremony at once if it's that serious."

She nodded. "I think it is."

"I'll do it as soon as we get back," he vowed. Then he looked at her. "Thank you. I am so glad that Naissus has you in his life. He made a wise choice."

Amichen was surprised by the king's praise—and his implication that she and Naissus were still to be joined. Surely he didn't want her as a daughter-in-law anymore . . . did he?

They rode up to the front door of the Sanctuary. A monk hurried up, taking their horses by the reins. "We weren't expecting you, Your Majesty," the man said, sounding a little flustered.

"This isn't an official visit," the king said, dismounting. "We're just here, as a family, to mourn."

"Of course. I will see that no one disturbs you."

The king went around to Amichen's horse and helped her down. "Tie the horses up here," he instructed. "We won't be long."

"Yes, sire."

The king led the way into the Sanctuary, but stopped when he found it empty. "Where's Naissus?"

"He's still downstairs. I tried to get him to sit up here while I went back for help, but he said he couldn't climb the stairs."

They went to the door under the altar, but the king hesitated at the threshold. "It's dark in here."

"Naissus made me take the lantern back with me."

"He's in here in the dark?" he asked with surprise.

"I couldn't convince him to do anything else."

The king frowned. "I think you're right; I think he's very bad-off." He pointed to a nearby candlestand. "Get a candle for us and light it."

Amichen took the candle out of its holder, then climbed up to the altar where an eternal flame burned. As she lit the candle, she said a silent prayer that they could save Naissus from himself.

She returned to the king's side and he took the candle and led the way through the upper crypt, then down the stairs to the lower one. The light revealed Naissus lying on the stairs.

"Naissus!" Amichen shouted, running down the stairs to his prone figure. She was sure that he had managed to kill himself somehow after all.

But when he heard her, he sat up and turned to look. "Did you have to tell on me to my father?" he asked. It was hard to tell if he was disappointed in her, or merely joking.

"He found me," she explained.

The king handed the candle to Amichen, then bent down and picked up Naissus as easily as he had picked up Amichen. Of course, Naissus probably didn't weigh much more than she did; unlike his father and Talent, he was slight of build.

The king carried him upstairs and through the Sanctuary. But Naissus insisted on being put down before they went outside.

"I can walk from here," he said.

The king sat him on his feet, but Naissus leaned on his arm as they walked out. Once outside, he had to stop as the sun temporarily blinded him after being in the dark for so long.

"Do you want to ride back with me or Amichen?" the king asked.

"Amichen," he said without hesitation. Amichen didn't know why until the king put Naissus on her horse, then put her on behind him. From there, she was able to hold onto him—even hold the reins, if necessary—but he would still appear to be in control of himself and the horse. It was a salve on his wounded pride.

The king mounted up, then headed back to the city. Naissus was able to use one hand to control the horse, and he and Amichen fell in behind the king. Amichen kept a tight hold on him, though—not because she was worried about falling off, but because she was worried that he might.

When they rode back into the city, people turned to look in a way they hadn't before. Soon, people were moving towards them, not away. They reached out, gently touching Naissus or the horse as they passed by.

"Bless you, Your Highness."

"Gods save you."

"I pray for you, sire."

Amichen was so touched by the genuine love and devotion of the people of Hyrule had for their wounded prince, tears welled up in her eyes and she hid her face against Naissus' back so no one would see.

It took them longer to get back to the castle, and when they finally arrived, Naissus threw his leg over the horse's neck and dropped down before even Amichen could dismount. He stumbled a bit, but caught himself against the horse. And then, without a backwards glance, he headed—rather unsteadily—towards the stairs.

Amichen hopped off the horse and ran to catch up with him. "Let me help," she told him quietly.

"I don't want help."

"Naissus, don't be stubborn for stubbornness' sake," she chided, taking him by the arm. But he jerked his arm away from her.

"I don't want your pity!" he shouted, causing her to flinch away. "I don't deserve pity—especially not yours. I deserve you least of all."

He turned and slowly climbed the broad stairs, then slowly shuffled across the porch.

Amichen was incredibly hurt. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched him disappear into the castle.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "You were right," the king said quietly. "Naissus is ashamed of himself—to the point that he hates himself, I think. And he wants us to hate him as much as he hates himself."

"But I don't hate him and I can't imagine anyone else does."

"No, but we will have to let him atone so he can forgive himself." He patted her on the shoulder. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

Amichen went up to her room and lay down—resting on her own bed for the first time in days. She wasn't sure what the king had meant, but she hoped he knew a way to fix Naissus. In the past few days, she had seen flashes of who he really was—or, rather, who he had been—but they were like peeks of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day. Most of the time he was moody, grieving, or just silent. He and Amichen spent long periods of time just lying together, saying nothing. She thought he had been getting better, but it seemed that even as his wounds had improved, his emotional condition had been worsening. Seeing the graves of his friends and receiving the pity of the people had just pushed him over the edge.

After a while, she grew bored lying in bed, so she got up and wandered down the hallway to the royal family's living room. Naissus' mother had shown it to her earlier in the week and she found it terribly curious. It was a room just for the family to congregate and enjoy each other's company. Shi-Ha had no equivalent to it. Of course, the royal family there tended to be small, but even so, there were no private places for specific groups of people to meet. Receiving rooms in private apartments had been done away with generations before in an effort to reduce the feuding that went on between warring factions. Now, everyone congregated in the court hall—a large room just across the hallway from the throne room. It didn't totally eliminate people meeting in private to conspire, but it did seem to cut back on it. Now, would-be conspirators had to make their deals under the watchful eye of the queen. And if she thought you were lingering too long with someone or talking too seriously, she would call on you to announce your conversation publicly.

But here in Hyrule, there never seemed to be a real court. Family members came and went, but it always seemed like a visit. Other nobles might come to make a report or petition the king for something, but they didn't tend to stay long. Instead, different activities were planned at various locations throughout the year. Rodger's Midsummer party had been one of many events on the social calendar of the noblemen. There was an annual summer pilgrimage to Lake Hylia for a festival at a shrine dedicated to her and a winter festival was held there in the coldest part of the year when the lake froze over and people were able to go ice skating and sledding on the nearby hills. In the fall, there were hunts in the forest north of Castle Town and in the spring there were boat races in Kakariko. And this was to say nothing of the numerous concerts, dinners, and balls that were held at individual estates, both in Hyrule and in Erenrue.

So the court of Hyrule wasn't centered much on the castle and the king and queen. Instead, it moved around the country, following the various activities, and in between, people went back to their own homes.

Amichen went into the living room and found that several of the women of the family were there, listening to music, talking, and working on embroidery. Everyone was still wearing black as a sign of mourning; the king had already announced that they would be in mourning until the murderers were brought to justice.

Naissus' older sisters and sisters-in-law had all decided to stay at the castle, rather than go home, while things were still unsettled. While it was certainly safer in the castle than anywhere else, Amichen suspected that the real reason why they stayed was because they wanted to hear news the minute it happened. And, gods forbid, if anything went wrong, they wanted to be close to their family.

She was still trying to get used to the idea of relatives who actually _wanted_ to be together.

Yasmina, one of Naissus' older sisters, looked up from her harp playing. "Hello, Amichen. How is Naissus today?"

Despite the fact that the rest of the family was huddling together during this dark time, Naissus had actually asked that the others not visit him. The doctor had agreed that too much company might be overwhelming, so everyone stayed away but Amichen, the physician and his assistants, and the queen—who limited herself to just one visit per day. The rest of the family had been largely relying on Amichen to keep them updated as to Naissus' progress.

Amichen didn't know how to answer Yasmina's question. "The doctor saw him this morning and took off his bandages," she said evasively.

"Oh, what good news!"

"How is he? I mean, how well has he recovered?" Wyliss asked.

Amichen shook her head a little. "His wounds are close to healed, but he is permanently blinded in his left eye and he has no use of his left arm. The doctor thinks that with some more time and some special exercises, he can get more use of his hand, but he didn't sound as optimistic about his arm. He can't move it at all now and I'm not sure if he will ever be able to."

All the women's faces fell. "That's terrible," Kelsie said.

"At least he's alive," Yasmina said firmly. "It could be much worse. We could be in mourning for him, too."

"When will he be able to get out of bed?" Wyliss asked. "When can we see him again?"

"He was out of bed for a little while today," Amichen admitted, "but it exhausted him. And . . . I'm not really sure he's ready to be around other people yet."

"That's understandable," Wyliss said. She turned back to her embroidery and started picking out a mistake. "For as long as I've known Suss, he's been around those other boys. He and Rodger were especially joined at the hip. He has lost not just his best friends but, really, his brothers."

"I know he thought of them that way," Amichen said. "But it's more than just his grief. He also doesn't want people's pity—or help," she added, remembering his recent rejection. As sympathetic as she tried to feel towards Naissus, she couldn't help but still feel stung.

Wyliss looked up from her project. "Oh, gods, I can imagine! I'd make the worst injured person ever because I couldn't tolerate people coddling me."

"I think you would whip us all just to prove you still could," Noni teased.

"Absolutely."

Amichen smiled, Wyliss' words making her feel better. She couldn't really understand how hard Naissus' weakness hit him because she had never been strong; she had always been an object of pity and condescension. But she could see how someone like Wyliss would chafe in that same situation, and while Naissus wasn't as outspoken and bold as Wyliss, he was just as strong and independent.

Amichen took a seat beside Yasmina in the bright sunlight, which was streaming through large windows.

"Do you play?" Yasmina asked, gesturing to her harp.

Amichen shook her head. "Not the harp, no."

"What do you play?"

"Erhu, zither, yangqin, and the sanxian."

Yasmina blinked. "It . . . sounds as if you are very accomplished."

"I had a lot of time to learn," Amichen said. Largely kept hidden from court, she had spent more time than most noble girls learning how to play.

"I'm afraid we don't have any of those instruments or I would ask you to play something for us."

Amichen frowned. "My sanxian was in my luggage." Just like the bandits, the horses and luggage that had accompanied Amichen and Naissus' party had not turned up anywhere.

"What is a san . . . what did you call it?"

"A sanxian," Amichen repeated slowly. "It's . . . similar to your lute, I think."

"We have one of those," one of the other women said, rising. "Reni plays one."

She went to a large cabinet on the wall and opened the doors. Inside there were various instruments carefully hanging up on one side, then on the other side there were shelves and a few drawers that contained even more instruments. It looked like there was anything that anyone could want to play available.

"What are the other things that you can play?" Yasmina asked.

"The erhu is . . . I think it's like your violin, but it doesn't look like it at all. But you play it by drawing a bow across strings."

Yasmina nodded.

"A yangqin is a type of hammer dulcimer. And a zither . . . I don't know what that's like. It's just its own thing, I guess. You put it on your lap and slide your fingers up and down the strings," she said, illustrating.

Yasmina shook her head. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like that.

The other woman—Amichen thought she was Renault's wife, but couldn't recall her name—brought over the lute. "Do you want to play with this?" she offered.

Amichen took it and a pick from her. "Thank you." But when she put it on her lap and looked at it, she was taken aback to discover that it had fifteen strings and a neck that was bent sharply, as if it had been broken.

"Oh, this is much more complicated than what I'm used to playing," Amichen said. "A sanxian only has three strings."

"Then only play three strings!" Yasmina said with a laugh.

"Yes, but do you play it above or below this bend?" she asked, indicating the neck.

"Below," the other woman answered. "When Reni gets back, I'm sure he would be happy to give you lessons. He's the only one in the family who can play it, so he'll appreciate a fellow stringed-instrument enthusiast."

"A harp is a stringed instrument," Yasmina said with a fake pout.

"You know what I meant."

Amichen plucked at the lute, finding its sound to be considerably lower than her own instrument. Most of its strings were set in pairs—and Amichen had no idea if you were supposed to play both as if they were a single string or play them separately or do both—but the one in the uppermost register was only a single string.

"Whew, you're going to have to tune that," Yasmina complained. "I don't know anything about lutes and even _I_ can tell it's out of tune."

"Reni says that's his one complaint with it," the other woman said: "he spends more time tuning it than playing it."

Noni. Amichen was almost certain that was what her name was—although she didn't know if "Noni" was her whole name or just a nickname; in this family, one could never tell. She was Wyliss' cousin and also from Erenrue.

"Here, let's tune it," Yasmina said, plucking a note on her harp and bringing Amichen back to the task at hand.

"Can you do something higher?" Amichen asked.

Yasmina plucked a higher string. Amichen turned the tuning peg and plucked the string until its pitch matched that of the harp.

Once it was somewhat close to being tuned, Amichen tried plucking it again, deciding to play the paired strings as two separate strings.

It began to vaguely resemble the sound of her sanxian, but there was no doubt that the instruments weren't closely related.

"It's interesting how you play it," Noni said. "Reni's fingers hardly move, but you're sliding yours up and down the strings."

"You have to if you want to get a lot of sound out of only three strings," Amichen replied.

"That makes sense."

Amichen played with the lute for a while, but eventually put it up. It wasn't a replacement for her own instrument and she felt that she wasn't doing it justice by only playing three of its fifteen strings.

"Would you like to play cards?" Kelsie offered.

"I don't know how to play cards," Amichen said, moving over to sit with her. "But I do know how to play dice. Your brother taught me."

Noni laughed. "He would!"

Amichen looked at her curiously. "Is . . . is it bad to play dice?"

"Dice is usually a man's game—something they play when they're drunk. Cards are considered more sophisticated."

"Well, that would explain a lot," Amichen said. "We did play dice while drinking."

Yasmina laughed. "Those boys! Trust them to corrupt you like that!"

Suddenly, a pall was cast over the room as they were all reminded that "those boys" were no more. No longer would they game and drink and be merry.

"Well, let me teach you something simple," Naissus' sister said, hurrying to break the silence.

Amichen spent a pleasant day with the royal women. They were curious about her country and culture and asked many questions. Amichen was able to ask them questions, too, about things that the men had not known much about—like fashion and hair styles. She was also able to ask Wyliss many questions about Erenrue. She found that much of what she had been told was only half-true.

Admittedly, Amichen had not been sure what to think of Wyliss when she first met her because Wyliss said exactly what was on her mind, filtering nothing and holding nothing back. Amichen was used to forceful women, but none who were so open; you never had to wonder where you stood with Wyliss because she would tell you in no uncertain terms. But she was starting to grow on Amichen. Despite her forthrightness, she was never unkind, and she seemed to be fiercely loyal to her family.

The queen came in briefly before dinner. "All of you need to come to the chapel this evening after dark."

"What's going on?" Yasmina asked.

"The knights are being called in and we need to be there as well."

"Called in for what?" Noni asked, then, with a gasp, she half-rose to her feet. "Someone isn't . . ? It's not . . ?"

"No, it's not for a funeral," the queen answered.

"Then what's it for, Mother?" Yasmina pressed.

"Naissus. They're . . . going to have a Reconciliation for him," she said, as if it pained her to say it.

This elicited a gasp from the Hyrulian women, but Wyliss, Noni, and Amichen were left looking confused.

"Surely not!" Kelsie said.

The queen nodded.

"But _why_?" Yasmina wailed. "He's not done anything."

"Of course not. If he had done something truly dishonorable, they would be excommunicating him. The Reconciliation is for his benefit. His father talked to him, and he wants it."

"But he shouldn't want it!" Yasmina continued to argue. "He's done nothing wrong."

"We know that, but we can't convince him of it. We fear he won't recover from it without help."

The queen left again to oversee the arrival of the knights. Wyliss turned to the other women.

"What's a 'Reconciliation'?" she demanded.

"It's something they sometimes do for knights," Yasmina said. "I've never been to one—only heard about them. They don't do them very often."

"What have you heard?"

"It's similar to an Excommunication. They will shame the person, but in private—not in public—and once it's over, everything is supposed to be right between everyone."

She shook her head. "I don't understand. I don't understand why Naissus would want the other knights to shame him when he's done nothing wrong."

But Amichen knew why he wanted that. As his father had said, he hated himself. Perhaps if people he admired "punished" him, then he could let go of his shame; he could feel that it was balanced out.

"Why do they want us to go?" Amichen asked. She could think of nothing she would rather view less.

"I don't know," Yasmina replied. "Maybe we have some role to play. Or maybe he wants us to watch."

"I don't want to watch Naissus be shamed," Kelsie said.

"I don't either."

Amichen only hoped that, at the end of the ordeal, Naissus would be better. If he wasn't, then she wasn't sure that anything would help him.


	13. The Reconciliation

After dinner with the rest of the family—Naissus being conspicuously absent—Amichen went to her room to lie down for a little while. She didn't think she would be able to nap—she was too worried about what the Reconciliation would entail—but she had had a physically and emotionally exhausting day, and she fell asleep unexpectedly.

The next thing she knew, the queen was shaking her awake. "Let's go," she whispered.

Amichen rose, feeling like they were going to something secret.

"May I ask why it's so late at night?" Amichen asked as the bells around the town began to chime midnight.

"When a candidate for knighthood is named, he is taken away at sunset and bathed and dressed in white linen, then escorted to the chapel to keep his vigil. All through the night, the other knights will come in, individually, and give him words of wisdom and caution him against vice. At dawn, they will come for him again, dress him, then he will be knighted and he will break his fast with the court. Only after breakfast will he go to get his tattoo.

"Everything is symbolic," she explained. "In the darkness, we are at our weakest and most vulnerable. The candidate furthers this by wearing nothing but his underwear and having nothing to eat but a measured amount of bread and water each hour. And that is when the knights lecture the candidate and make sure that he is not too prideful. And he must endure sitting alone for part of the night—almost as a test of courage. It is, in a way, like the time before birth—when a person dwells in darkness, having nothing. But when day comes, it is as if he is reborn. He will dress in his finest clothes, be presented to the king, and knighted. Then he will be the guest of honor at breakfast while everyone praises him. It is a new day for him, and he is a new man.

"When a knight dies, the same cycle repeats itself. The body is brought to the chapel and everyone keeps a final vigil with him. Then, at dawn, he is taken for burial. He is being elevated to the Other World.

"An Excommunication would happen at dawn, too. But, instead of being brought to the vigil naked and then dressed in his best when it's finished, he is taken into public in his best, then stripped of it. It is a perversion of the knighting ritual—just as he perverted his vows as a knight.

"Thank the gods," Queen Maris added, "that we have never seen one of those in our lifetime. They exist only in books."

"But . . . why midnight for Naissus?" Amichen asked.

"Because it is a dark time—a hidden time. The Reconciliation is something that's done in secret; only the knights and any aggrieved parties are present, and what happens during it must not be spoken of again," the queen hinted.

"Oh, so we will not be present?" Amichen asked with relief.

"No, we will be there," the queen said, dashing her hope. "We are the aggrieved party."

"In what way?"

"Because we are his family. He feels that we have been the ones most let down—the most shamed by his action—or, rather, inaction."

Amichen just shook her head.

"He will feel better after this. You'll see," the queen promised. "This is the only way we can get him back. This is the only way he'll forgive himself.

The queen led Amichen downstairs and through the west wing of the castle. Two guards stood by an exterior door and one of them opened it for the ladies and let them pass by. Outside, there was a raised, covered walkway that crossed the castle garden and connected to a small, detached building. Two more guards stood at the chapel door and they opened the doors and bowed their heads as the queen approached.

Amichen looked around as they entered the building. It was small—it couldn't hold more than fifty people. There were ten pews arranged in two parallel rows. At the head of the chapel, instead of a proper altar, there was just an empty table. Directly above it, on the wall, was a large painting. Amichen recognized it as a sister painting to one in Shi-Ha; it depicted one of the adventures of Link and Zelda. This particular painting was of Link's own knighting. He knelt in the middle of a ruined room—Zelda in one corner, as just a spectator—with a ring of ghost-knights surrounding him. One knight held a spectral sword against Link's shoulder, giving him the dubbing.

Hanging around the painting were various weapons that Amichen had only ever read about: a gold, opal-studded mace which had the ability to call up the spirits of the dead; a mechanical glove created by the ancients that shot a grappling hook device from the back of the hand and could send the wearer zooming off across the room when the hooks latched onto something; another glove that had the power to move objects by thought alone; a seemingly-empty quiver that would bring forth arrows of light when a person chosen by the gods reached for them; a golden shield so highly polished, it not only reflected an image, like a mirror, but it would reflect anything else thrown at it: magic, fire, or ice; a whip that Link had taken from one of the demons they had defeated, and a bejeweled sword in a white scabbard that had been a gift to Link when the king of Erenrue had knighted him in that kingdom. Link had given the sword to Zelda and it had remained hers.

The only two weapons missing were Zelda's bow and Link's sword—which was an heirloom of the original Knights of Hyrule. Those two objects were actually part of Link and Zelda's tomb because no one had the audacity to take their primary weapons away from them, even in death. Only when a candidate was to be knighted was Link's sword brought to the chapel with all due solemnity and placed on the table like a holy relic. The candidate would be knighted with it the following morning, then it would be returned to the tomb.

Amichen saw that there were already people sitting in the pews—more than just Naissus' immediate family. She thought she recognized them from the funeral. It appeared that the parents of the men who were killed had been invited as well.

The queen and Amichen sat in the front row and Naissus' sisters and sisters-in-law filled in the rest of the row and the one behind them.

Once everyone was seated, the knights—dressed in their civilian clothes this time, not armor—filed silently into the chapel and lined the outside walls. Then Naissus came in—followed by the king. Amichen was shocked to see Naissus wearing nothing but his undershirt and linen underwear. He was even barefoot.

Amichen could only assume that he had symbolically taken on the role of squire once again so that, through the ceremony, he could be reconciled to his brother knights and brought back up to his proper station.

The king positioned Naissus in front of the table, then turned to the assembly. "Who accuses this man?" he called out.

There was absolute silence in the chapel, as if no one even dared to breathe, lest that be construed as damning. Not even the family members of the men who had died spoke out against Naissus.

Then Naissus spoke. "I accuse me."

He took a deep breath, then continued, addressing the crowd. "I failed to do my duty as a knight. I was in charge of the safety and well-being of a group of people: five of my cousins—one of whom was my brother-knight—three squires, a female maid of the Queen of Shi-Ha, and Princess Amichen of Shi-Ha. I allowed us to be attacked by bandits. I allowed all of the men under my command to be killed. I allowed the queen's maid to be killed. And I allowed. . ."

His voice choked up. It took him a couple of tries before he could speak. "And I allowed Princess Amichen to be violently abused—to the point that she nearly died as well."

He sank to his knees on the stone floor. "I submit that I am no longer fit to be a Knight of Hyrule," he said, bowing his head.

Amichen whispered hurriedly in the queen's ear. "They won't take away his knighthood, will they?" she asked anxiously.

The queen shook her head a little. But Amichen was still so nervous, she took the queen's hand in both of hers and held it tightly.

The king turned back to the assembly. "Does anyone here wish to see this knight Excommunicated?"

Amichen held her breath, but no one replied.

The king continued. "This man says that he has shamed his brethren and caused undue grief to others. Do what seems best to punish him for his transgressions, then let his sins be expunged and never mentioned again."

The king turned to Naissus, then, with an expression of absolute pain, he raised his hand and smacked Naissus across the face with a noise that echoed in the silent stone room.

Amichen gasped, half-rising to her feet in shock and alarm, but the queen pulled her back down and kept a tight grip on her arm. "Shh."

To Amichen's utter horror, Naissus' brother, Talent, stepped forward next and, after a moment's hesitation, he slapped Naissus as well.

Laertes and Renault were next, followed by the rest of the knights in age-order—the eldest going first.

Amichen turned her head away, closing her eyes, unable to watch as person after person slapped Naissus as if he had personally wronged him. But she knew that they were having just as much trouble participating as she had watching. Many of them had to take a minute to work up the nerve to strike him. Some were crying when they did it. Most were crying afterwards.

There were sniffles from all around her; the knights weren't the only ones crying.

It seemed interminably long. Nothing was said and nothing could be heard but a slight shuffle of feet and then the loud _smack_.

But when Amichen dared a glance at Naissus, despite the fact that he winced in pain as his bright-red cheeks were struck over and over again, his face looked more peaceful than it had been since the attack.

Amichen thought it a horribly twisted logic, but it seemed that he felt he was making amends by allowing the others to punish him. Never mind no one thought he deserved punishment in the first place; he thought he needed it and he wouldn't be free from guilt until he got it.

Finally, the last of the knights filtered through. But the ordeal was not yet over. The king gestured to a teenage girl—not more than fifteen years old—and her two younger brothers. Amichen recognized them as Rodger's siblings; the girl was now the Duchess of Summerfield.

The girl rose from her pew, tightly gripping her brothers' hands. She hesitated in front of Naissus longer than anyone else. Then she quickly and lightly slapped him across the face—as if it was something so distasteful, she could barely manage it—then she threw her arms around Naissus, hugging him tightly and crying on his shoulder.

He put his arm around her and spoke to her so quietly, even Amichen—sitting in the front row—couldn't hear what he was saying.

After a couple of minutes, he let go of her and kissed her on the cheek. She pulled away, smiling at him through her tears, and he returned it. Then he hugged his younger cousins tightly and they and their sister returned to their seats.

Slowly, Naissus' aunts and uncles and his father's cousins—the parents of the other men killed—came up to him in turn. It seemed harder for them to strike him; in fact, the women refused to do so at all, allowing, instead, their husbands to perform the gesture on their behalf. Each hit was light and was followed by tears and hugs.

They had lost more than anyone else, but they also knew how much Naissus had lost; they knew that he and the others had grown up like brothers and loved one another like brothers.

After them came the parents of the squires. The first two couples did as little as possible and hurried back to their seats—like the Duchess, they acted as if the entire thing was repugnant to them—but the third couple refused outright when the king signaled that it was their turn.

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," the man said, "but we're common folk; we have no right to strike the prince."

"In this place, rank has little meaning," the king replied. "Even a prince must show his humility. And you are the aggrieved party. Justice demands restitution for you, whatever your rank and whatever the rank of the guilty."

But the man shook his head. "I cannot," he whispered.

"Do you request that someone do it on your behalf?"

"If it must be done at all . . . then, yes, I suppose so. All I know is I can't do it."

"Very well."

The king walked up the aisle to Naissus and it suddenly became horrifyingly clear that he, as leader of the Order must be the stand-in. A man who had never struck his son before in his life—aside from the ceremonial blow delivered at everyone's knighting—would now hit him a second time in one night.

He pulled his hand back, then struck Naissus across the face so hard, it rocked him back.

Naissus put his hand to face, actually looking up at his father in astonishment; the king had struck him much harder the second time than the first. It seemed that his father did not want to poorly represent the people he stood in for and he did not temper his strike with any fatherly affection.

And then something truly awful happened. The king turned and gestured to Amichen.

She froze, staring at him in shock. He gestured to her a second time. "Amichen," he quietly called.

The queen leaned into, whispering into Amichen's ear. "You need to do this for Naissus, darling." Then she pushed Amichen to her feet. But Amichen stayed rooted in place; the king had to come over and escort her to Naissus.

She stared down at him, his pale cheeks an angry red from the repeated slaps.

He looked up at her, his face sorrowful. "I have wronged you more than any other," he said quietly.

"You wronged me when you turned me away this morning—when you refused my help."

He closed his eye, looking pained. "Yes, I did."

"But I won't strike you for it."

He looked up at her again. "You have many more reasons than that for striking me."

"According to you. But I don't agree with you."

"Please, Ami," he whispered. "I need your forgiveness more than any other's."

She knelt in front of him so she could look at him equally. "Naissus, you already have it."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"You want me to strike you because you think it will make you feel better. But what about me? What about my feelings? Hitting you will make me feel bad. And aren't you supposed to put others ahead of yourself? And yet what you want is being put ahead of what everyone else wants. Because, if you hadn't already noticed, no one wanted to do this to you. You wanted this—you and you alone."

His eye widened as he realized the truth of her words. He was left gaping, speechless.

Amichen put her arms around him, holding him close. "Let go of this, Naissus. Let go of your guilt."

She could feel the darkness break inside him and he slumped against her, bawling. She rubbed his back while he clung to her, finally releasing all the hurt and anger he had bottled up and directed towards himself.

"You're right," he mumbled, as his tears slowly subsided. He sat back on his heels and tried to wipe his face dry with his one good hand. Amichen reached up and helped him. "You're right," he repeated. "I have been wallowing in my misery to the detriment of others."

"Well, I guess I see a good purpose to this ceremony after all; you just needed some sense slapped into you," Amichen said.

He chuckled, then, unexpectedly, he pulled her in and kissed her—right there in front of everyone.

He rested his forehead against hers. "I have neglected you most of all," he whispered. "And you're the one who needs me the most—just as I need you."

"I am your man . . . er, woman. I will be there for you anytime you need me."

"No," he said, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it, "I am yours."

Amichen smiled, then rose to her feet and helped him up. He put his arm around her waist—surprising her yet again—and held her close to his side as they looked out over the assembly.

"Then, if no one else has anything to add, this matter is closed," the king announced. "Naissus is restored to the knighthood in honor and this matter will never be spoken of again."

People came up to Naissus again, but this time to shake his hand or hug him. He smiled at everyone and thanked them.

Amichen still didn't know why such a bizarre ceremony worked, but clearly it did; Naissus seemed his old self again. Maybe she was right; maybe he just needed some sense slapped into him.

Amichen was surprised when the queen gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for my son."

Wyliss came up to her next, whispering in her ear. "You can't tell me now that you haven't saved Naissus."

Everyone trickled out of the chapel as the town bells tolled one o'clock. Naissus and Amichen were the last to leave. He went around the room, blowing out the candles, before taking Amichen's hand and walking back to the castle with her.

"I don't even know what room you're in," he said, somewhat embarrassed, as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"Down at the end," Amichen said, pointing the way.

Naissus whistled as they walked into the room. "Mother gave you one of the nicest rooms in the castle," he said.

"It's not that much different than yours," Amichen protested.

"Just in the view." He pointed. "You can look east, towards the land of your birth, or you can look forward, towards Hyrule."

Amichen hadn't thought about it that way, but now that Naissus had pointed out, she could see how the ever-thoughtful queen would have picked the room just for that reason.

"I think she loves you better than she does me," he laughed.

It seemed so long since she had heard him laugh freely, without bitterness, that her heart swelled with happiness.

Then he reached out and slowly brushed his fingers across her cheek. "But, I can hardly blame her," he said quietly. "I love you, too."

Before she could figure out what to say, he leaned in and gently kissed her.

A cold chill ran down her spine, making her feel the way she had the very first time he had kissed her when they had been lying out, looking at the stars.

He slowly pulled away, looking at her with a gaze so intense, it felt as if he might set her on fire with it. "Goodnight," he whispered.

Her mouth was so dry, she had to swallow before she could speak. "Goodnight."

He smiled at her, then turned and left.

Amichen didn't ring for a maid. Instead, she undressed herself and got into her nightgown. But she lay on top of the covers and let the cool air coming through the open winds blow over her. For some reason, she felt a little hot.


	14. Pallis Held Hostage

Early the next morning—while Amichen was still quite asleep—the queen shook her awake. "Amichen! Your mother is here!"

Amichen sat bolt-upright in the bed, wide-awake. "My mother?" she gasped. She had forgotten that her mother was coming.

"Yes. The guards just spotted her party on the horizon and a messenger carrying her banner is riding ahead. He's probably here by now."

Amichen threw back the covers and hopped out of the bed, her heart racing. She had no idea what she was going to say to her mother because she had no idea how her mother would react. What if she berated her for not doing a better job at protecting herself? What if she did it in front of everyone else, shaming her publicly? Then the queen and Naissus and Wyliss and all the others would see that Amichen was not who they thought she was—that her mother had sold them a falsehood. In reality, she was weak and deficient in many ways and it would be best if they sent her back.

The queen told her that she didn't have to wear mourning black and to name whatever she would like to wear to meet her mother, but Amichen insisted on wearing her black dress. She did not want to forget her friends just yet.

When they went downstairs a short time later, they found the king standing on the porch, talking to the messenger.

"The Queen of Shi-Ha approaches," the king announced to his wife and Amichen.

"I'll have the kitchens make extra for breakfast," the queen said, starting to turn back.

"She's bringing a small army with her," he warned. "We need to find room for about fifty men and horses, plus half a dozen of her advisors."

"I'll take care of it," she said. She grabbed Wyliss—who was just coming out to see what was going on—and dragged her back inside. "I need your help . . ."

The king sent the messenger into the castle to find some food and drink, then he and Amichen stood together silently on the landing, waiting for the arrival of the Queen of Shi-Ha.

The rest of the family slowly trickled out—Naissus coming to stand beside Amichen. The queen and Wyliss were the last to join them, just as the trumpeters at the city gate began to blow a fanfare to warn everyone in the city that royalty was coming.

"Everything's ready," Amichen heard the queen whisper to her husband.

A few minutes later, the gates of the castle were pulled open and a huge retinue came trotting up the drive, the red and gold imperial banners fluttering in the bright sunshine. And, at their head, was Amichen's formidable mother, dressed for battle in her suit of armor and riding one of the large, coal black horses reserved for the Royal Family. The only thing she wasn't wearing was a helmet. Instead, her bare head was lifted almost defiantly, the sun glinting off her glossy black hair.

The queen rode up to the front steps where the Hyrulian family was assembled. A stableboy hurried forward to take her horse's reins while the king slowly walked down the stairs to greet her.

"Queen Xiao-Lin, welcome to Hyrule. I only wish the circumstances were better."

"Don't we all." The queen threw her leg over the back of her horse and dropped to the ground. The stableboy led it out of the way and the queen offered her hand to the king. Amichen thought it would have been a gesture of goodwill if she had removed her gauntlet first and offered him at least her bare fingers to touch, but if the king thought the same way, he didn't show it. Instead, he clasped her firmly by the hand like an old friend, then leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks, showing that he viewed her as an equal.

"We have made arrangements for your men," he said, nodding to the group which was waiting silently behind her.

"Thank you. We have ridden hard to get here."

Queen Maris turned to the servants assembled behind her and nodded. They began pouring down the stairs, hurrying to help with the baggage and lead the advisors and noblemen to their lodgings in some of the castle's better rooms on the third floor.

"Come in and get comfortable," the king said to the queen. "Breakfast is nearly ready. We can discuss the latest news then."

She nodded. "Thank you, I will."

She followed him up the stairs, then paused at the top, looking over the assembly of daughters and daughters-in-law and grandchildren.

"It looks like your castle is quite full already," she said. Amichen wondered if that was supposed to be a subtle dig at the size of their family.

"Normally it's not, but with everything that's happened . . . well, I'm sure you can understand keeping your family close in a time like this."

"Yes—especially as I only have the two daughters. But one of them has not even come to greet me," she said, looking at Amichen pointedly.

Amichen slowly walked over to her mother, her head bowed. When she was in front of the queen, she bent her knees, dipping a type of curtsey that was peculiar to Shi-Ha. "Mother," she said obediently.

Then her mother did something completely unexpected: she put her arms around Amichen, pulling her close.

Amichen was so surprised to find herself pressed against her mother's breastplate, she couldn't speak. In sixteen years, she could never remember her mother ever hugging her.

She held Amichen for a long while and when she finally pulled away, she averted her eyes, as if trying to hide tears. "Show me to my room," she commanded.

"Amichen, her room will be right next to yours on the east side," Queen Maris said.

Amichen nodded, then walked with her mother into the castle.

She noticed her mother looking around as they crossed the entrance hall and went up the wide, curving stair.

"They know how to live like royalty, don't they, these Hyrulians?" her mother remarked. "I guess that's the benefit to living in peace."

"We've been at peace for many generations," Amichen pointed out.

"Only with our neighbors," her mother contradicted. "Among ourselves the fight is always simmering."

Amichen couldn't disagree with that.

She led her mother to the end of the hall and opened the door on a large bedroom almost exactly the same as hers; the only difference was it didn't have windows facing south, towards the city.

"Do you need anything before breakfast?" Amichen asked.

"I don't think so."

Amichen tried to beat a hasty retreat, but her mother stopped her almost immediately. "Stay here," she commanded.

Reluctantly, Amichen closed the door behind her. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her mother. Just because she hadn't said anything in front of the others didn't mean she wouldn't speak her mind in private.

"Help me out of this," the queen said, lifting her arm. Amichen went to her and slowly began to unbuckle the straps on her mother's armor. She could feel her mother watching her like a hawk, but she kept her own head down and said nothing.

A few minutes later—when Amichen was nearly done—there was a knock at the door.

"Your Majesty? We have your luggage."

"Bring it in."

A few of the castle servants came in carrying large wooden boxes between them. "Put them anywhere," the queen said.

A maid came in and bobbed a curtsey. "Would you like me to draw you a bath before breakfast, Your Majesty?"

"No, but I will want one after I eat."

The girl curtseyed again. "It will be ready for you."

Once the queen was out of her armor and the servants had been dismissed, she went over to the luggage and began throwing open the lids and rummaging through it.

"Do you want something to wear, or do you like your Hyrulian clothes?" she asked Amichen.

"I will wear what I have on."

"Why is everyone wearing black? They all look atrocious in it. Whoever thought you would outshine an entire court?"

"Black is their mourning color. They have vowed to wear it until the murderers have been found and brought to justice."

The queen turned around and looked at Amichen. "You're wearing black. Do you mourn on their behalf, or for yourself?"

"I mourn for my friends who died."

The queen crossed the room with her long strides and came right up to Amichen, looking at her as if she would bore a hole through her. Amichen had to will herself not to take a step backwards.

"You still have that cowardly streak in you," her mother pronounced. "I can see you almost flinching. But there's something in your eyes that wasn't there before—a defiance. I would have expected the exact opposite after what happened to you; I would have thought you would have been broken beyond repair. But maybe you have some of me in you after all," she said, clucking Amichen under the chin almost affectionately.

"Of course," she said, going back to her boxes of clothes, "no man would have touched me and lived. But you are not strong—we know that. You have done as well as you can for yourself."

As much as Amichen knew it was true, her mother's words stung. "I broke the nose of one of them," she retorted. "It wasn't enough, but I did draw first blood."

Her mother turned back to her. "Did you really?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes."

"How?"

Amichen mimed the blow she had delivered with the heel of her hand.

Her mother actually looked mildly impressed. "That's a good first blow—although it's best to follow it up with others."

"I couldn't; he had me pinned to the ground." Suddenly she turned her head away, no longer interested in replaying what had happened in the woods. She didn't like the end of the story at all.

Her mother looked at her oddly for a long moment, then turned back to her clothes. "Help me dress," she said.

Amichen helped her mother peel off her gambeson, boots, and pants, then she got into a linen shift, three layers of robes, and a corselet. Then there was the elaborate pearl and gold-bead crown to set just so on her head.

Amichen found herself thinking about how odd it was that her mother could go from a fierce, armor-wearing swordswoman to a beautiful queen so quickly.

She also found it terribly odd that her mother wanted her help. Even if she didn't bring any servants with her—which seemed highly unlikely—there were maids enough in the castle; any of them could help her dress, even if they weren't familiar with Shi-Ha fashion.

"Take me to breakfast," her mother said, once Amichen finished arranging her crown.

Amichen led her mother back downstairs to a dining room that only the Royal Family used. It appeared that everyone was already there, waiting on them. As usual, everyone was talking. Even while in mourning—even while their sons and brothers and husbands were still out on the trail of the bandits and their future and success uncertain—it was hard for the royal family to be too dour. They were a happy family sitting at the pinnacle of a prosperous, happy kingdom. They could no more cease to be hopeful than Amichen's mother could stop scheming and looking for the worst in people.

"This is small," Amichen's mother muttered under her breath, looking around the room. There were several tables set up in a horseshoe shape. The king and queen sat in the middle of the head table with their children on either side of them and more children and grandchildren down either side of the other tables. As far as Amichen could tell, the king and queen were the only ones who sat in the same seats every day. Who they had around them varied. Sometimes the small children chose to sit next to a favorite aunt or uncle instead of their parents. And sometimes one of the adults would choose to sit next to their brother or sister instead of their spouse. Every day was different. The only constant, though, was that no one dined there but the royal family.

"This is just for them," Amichen whispered back. "They have a full-size hall they use if they want to eat with the entire court."

"They do not eat breakfast with their court?" her mother asked, sounding surprised.

"They don't have a court here much at all—only at certain times of the year."

"Really?"

Amichen nodded.

"How do they keep control over everyone if they don't watch them all the time?"

"They don't have to. Their nobles are all closely-related to the royal family and apparently their children spend a lot of time growing up here with the princes and princesses. So they act like a single family instead of a bunch of factions."

"Well, I suppose that's one benefit to having litters."

The king—at the far end of the table—rose to his feet, looking curiously at the two women lingering by the door. "Your Majesty, you may sit here," he said, gesturing to the seat to his left.

"Thank you," she said, sweeping up the room. Naissus jumped out of his chair and hurried to pull out the queen's chair for her.

"Thank you," she said, rather absent-mindedly, then she paused, looking at his eye patch and scarred face and his arm in a sling.

"Will you recover?" she asked bluntly.

"Not more than this, Your Majesty."

The queen sat down in her chair. "I see we have both had our children damaged," she said, addressing the king. He nodded gravely.

Naissus pulled out a chair for Amichen beside her mother. She didn't particularly care for that—it just meant that her mother was close enough to watch her carefully—but Naissus sat to her left, so that was a consolation.

Queen Maris nodded to the servants, who began to bring trays of food to the table.

"So what news do you have regarding those criminals?" Amichen's mother asked the king, as a server began to put food on her plate.

His face darkened. "Not much, I'm afraid. We lost their trail somewhere around the border of Erenrue and the men have not been able to find it again. It's as if they vanished into thin air!"

"Could they do that with magic?" Tosha asked.

"I don't know of anything that will make you completely invisible or allow you to fly, but I daresay there's magic that can hide your trail or confuse your trackers."

"That's the only thing that can explain why Reni hasn't found them again," Queen Maris said. "Even with the rainstorm washing most of their traces away, he should still be able to find something after so many days."

"They'll have to show up again," Amichen's mother said grimly. "Men don't organize that well for just one job. And their prize wasn't even that rich; Amichen didn't carry any money and her goods weren't worth a great amount—not on the black market."

"The horses were the only thing of value," Naissus said.

"Yes, and they were your royal horses and mine. I'm sure you brand yours, as we do ours."

Naissus nodded.

"Who will want to buy horses stolen from two Crowns? They are a liability more than an asset. Once they get where they're going, I daresay they will kill them and hide the evidence. Any man caught with such a horse would sign his own death warrant."

"I wonder why they went north?" Naissus asked. "It doesn't make any sense to leave the woods and head towards the plain where you're easier to spot at a distance. And, as you say, the horses are distinctive. That means they need to avoid villages and the city of Pallis. So I don't know where they mean to go. It looks like it would be safer to disappear into the southern woods."

"They might hide in the mountains," Wyliss suggested.

"Is there a way to get into the mountains without going through the city?"

She nodded. "Yes, if you know where to climb up. But you certainly can't take horses."

"Maybe that's where they will ditch the horses."

"What if they doubled-back and are in the south now?" Noni asked.

"They would have had to get past Reni and the others," Queen Maris pointed out.

"If they had magic, they might have been able to do it," Noni countered.

"Perhaps I should send my men south to check," Amichen's mother suggested. "Then you can move your men north and check the mountains as the Erenrue princess suggests. We have two forces; we might as well check in two places. The worst that can happen is we still don't find them. And since my men will eat as much—or more—here as on the road, we might as well put them to use."

The king nodded. "I think that sounds—" Suddenly, he stopped talking and his eyes grew distant.

His wife leaned forward in her chair and put her hand on top of his. "What is it?"

Before he could answer, Renault appeared next to him. It still startled Amichen to see people come and go without warning in Hyrule.

"Reni!" his mother exclaimed. But Renault didn't look at her. Instead, he staggered over to his wife, who quickly rose from her seat and let him have it. He looked dead on his feet.

"What's happened?" his mother asked anxiously, as he sank into the chair. A servant pressed a goblet of wine into the prince's hand.

"The worst possible thing," he said, sounding like a messenger of death. "Worse than before."

The queen gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. "What could be worse than before?" Noni asked.

He raised his head and looked at his parents. "Those bandits have taken over the castle of Erenrue. They're holding Princess Lorralie, hostage." He turned to look at Wyliss. "I'm sorry. Prince Fennris is dead."

"My brother?" she shrieked.

He nodded glumly.

She covered her mouth and didn't seem to breathe for a minute, then she burst into loud tears. Queen Maris ran around the table to comfort her.

The king waved to the door. "Children, go," he said, his voice uncharacteristically stern. The youngest children got up and headed for the door and several servants stepped in to help shepherd them out. A couple of the older ones tried to stay, but their mothers dismissed them, too. When they started to argue, the king roared, "OUT!" Amichen was startled to hear him shout; it was the angriest she had ever seen him. Apparently it scared the children, too, because they ran out of the room without further protest.

Once the door was shut behind them, the king turned to Renault. "What happened?" he asked, his face ashen.

"Apparently the bastards made straight for Pallis after they attacked Naissus and the others. We were hunting them as if they were fugitives—as if they were seeking some place to hide—but they weren't. They went right into Pallis, bold as brass."

"But . . . how?" the king demanded. "How could they possibly do that and not be recognized?"

"They put on our clothes."

Everyone looked at him in confusion.

"They stole all of our luggage—and Princess Amichen's," Renault reminded them. "They dressed up as if they were our noblemen and Shi-Ha representatives and they told the palace guard they were there with a message from you," he said with a nod to his father, "for the king. The guard let them in without a second thought. They were riding royal horses and dressed like noblemen—why would the guard think they weren't who they said they were?"

Amichen shuddered to think about the guard letting in such monsters completely unawares. That must have been why they hadn't kept her for ransom; they had a much bigger plan and trying to keep up with her would have just slowed them down.

"Then what happened?" Kelsie whispered.

"Somehow they tricked the princess into showing them to the armory, then they grabbed her and locked her inside."

Wyliss lifted her head. "Why doesn't she teleport out? I could bring her here."

But Renault shook his head. "They've told her that if she leaves, they'll blow the armory. And there's enough powder in there to blow half of Pallis off the map and kill most of the rest of the inhabitants with the debris."

"But they will kill themselves in the process," Amichen pointed out. "They're bluffing."

He shook his head again. "I wouldn't think so. If they left someone—or more than one person—in hiding somewhere, then they could start a fire in the armory and get out before it blows. That's what I would do if I planned this—and it seems like they've planned it well."

"What about getting people in?" Noni asked. "Surely the princess can bring people in."

"Already tried that. That's how Prince Fennris died. They told her that they would kill anyone she brought in, but he wanted to risk it. He did and he died."

"Why not bring in more than one person?" Amichen asked.

"Because we can only teleport one person at a time," he explained. "Apparently, there are quite a few of them locked in the armory, so it's easy for them to kill anyone who teleports in before he has a chance to fight back or bring in reinforcements of his own."

"So what's going to happen now?" the queen asked. "What do they want?"

"Oh, nothing much," Renault said sarcastically. "Just half the treasury of Erenrue."

"You must be joking," Noni said.

"Unfortunately, I'm not. The king has three days to produce it or they'll blow the armory with the princess in it."

"And where do they think they'll go?"Amichen's mother demanded. "Anyone who appears anywhere with that much money would be instantly suspect."

"Well, again, if I was doing this, I would take my share of the ransom and hide most of it and only tap into it periodically and lead a respectable, but not ostentatious, lifestyle. That way, I wouldn't excite suspicion."

"And do you really think all of them will be that smart?" Amichen's mother asked. "Do you really think that all of them will resist that temptation?"

"Maybe not," Renault said with a shrug. "But that only leads to us finding one man—maybe one or two more. Imagine that they all go their separate ways and they don't know where the others are. One gets stupid and we catch him. He can't tell us where the others are, so unless they get stupid, too, they can hide in plain sight for the rest of their comfortable lives."

Silence descended on the table, save Wyliss' occasional sniffs. Finally, the king spoke. "Are our men in Pallis?"

Renault nodded. "We went there for supplies and a night's rest before looking elsewhere. We arrived just as all of this was transpiring. I came back to tell you in person, but the others stayed to help, if they can."

The king shook his head. "They need to come back immediately."

"Surely you don't mean to abandon us!" Wyliss exclaimed.

"It's not abandonment, my dear; it's an evacuation. And your family needs to get out, too. With or without the money, those bastards may very well blow the armory and then you can add your parents and Gustav to the casualty list."

Wyliss paled.

"Let me go back and talk to everyone," Renault said, standing up. "I'll see what they want to do."

"Offer our hospitality to Ricard and Valla. Try to get them to see reason and come here. But regardless, I want all of our people back here within the hour," the king commanded.

Renault nodded. "Within the hour." Then he was gone again.

No one much felt like eating after that. Wyliss retreated to her room to be alone and the queen and the other women left to begin preparing for the possible influx of another royal family. The king called an emergency meeting of his advisors and left to meet with them and discuss all of the ramifications of what was happening, and Naissus went with him. Amichen's mother left to update her advisors and to check that her retinue had been properly housed and fed.

Amichen found herself alone. She idly thought that she might find the royal library and see what books they had available, but, instead, she ended up aimlessly wandering the hallways, thinking about the situation in Erenrue.

The bandits had now killed ten people from all three kingdoms—including assaulting or murdering members of all three royal families. And if something wasn't done to save Lorralie, the body count might grow to eleven—or maybe even thousands.

What if they got their money and then blew the armory anyway, as the king pointed out. Even if the entire city was evacuated and no life was lost, save the Princess', the loss of the money and the destruction of the capital city would cripple Erenrue financially. Of course, Erenrue would be even more determined to hunt down the bandits and get revenge, but, at the same time, they might not have the money to do so for very long.

Which might make the bandits want to do that very thing.

Amichen supposed that they could work out a trade. Some amount of money could be exchanged for a certain amount of powder. Every delivery of gold would reduce the amount of destruction they could do until they had all their money and little to no powder. Then they could teleport out and leave the princess free.

. . . Teleport out to enjoy their ill-gotten gains for the rest of their lives. Unless they slipped up and spent too much money or said the wrong thing to the wrong person, they would never be punished in any way for their murderous deeds. There would never be any way to connect them to the ransom money.

And then Amichen was struck suddenly by an idea, like a flash of light.

She hurried to the nearest guard, who straightened up a little when he saw her approaching.

"Excuse me, but where would I find the king? He said he was calling a meeting with his advisors, but I don't know where they would be."

"They're almost certainly in the council room. Take the main stairs to the second floor, then turn left. It will be the first door on your left."

"Thank you!" she said, hurrying away.

"You're welcome, Your Highness," he called out after her.

She followed the guard's instructions and went to the specified door. It was shut and she could hear voices on the other side. She hesitated for a moment, unsure about interrupting them. Maybe they would think her idea stupid or impractical and she would have interrupted them for no reason. Perhaps she should wait to talk to Naissus or the king alone.

But they didn't have a lot of time; the gold had to be delivered within three days. If the king spent most of the day with his advisors, it might make it too late to implement her idea, even if they liked it.

She knew that her mother wouldn't hesitate; she would open the door and stride right in, like she belonged, and begin offering her opinion as if it had been asked for.

Amichen decided to compromise and knock on the door.

A man in a long, brick-red gown opened the door and quickly looked Amichen over. "Yes?" he asked guardedly.

"Um . . . I need to speak to the king, please."

"He's busy. We will announce when he's hearing petitions again." And then he shut the door in her face.

Amichen was so shocked, she stood immobile, unable to even think, much less move. She had worried that they might reject her idea, but she had no idea that they wouldn't even let her into the room.

A moment later, Naissus jerked the door open. "Amichen!" Then he gestured her in. "I'm sorry. Come in."

Amichen hesitantly walked into the room. The face of the man who had rejected her was as red as his gown, and he bowed very low.

"Oh, Your Highness, forgive me! I didn't recognize you. I just assumed you . . . I wasn't thinking at all."

"All is forgiven," she said, using a Shi-Ha expression that, for all intents and purposes, translated into, "I won't kill you for anything you've done." It was a way of burying the hatchet that was, unfortunately, used too rarely in the eastern kingdom.

"Did you need me?" Naissus asked quietly, looking at her.

"No, actually." She went to the head of the table where the king sat looking at her curiously. "I had an idea, Your Majesty."

"Let's hear it," he said. "We have a lot of speculation on what Erenrue's troubles will mean for us, but we're very short on ideas to help."

Amichen took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I think Erenrue should pay them the ransom money," she announced.

"Once the bandits have that, they're gone," an advisor interrupted. "Then we have no way of ever catching them."

"I think they should pay the bandits the money," Amichen repeated. "But I think they should do it with marked coins."

The king leaned forward, looking intrigued. "What do you mean 'marked'?"

"Either some little mark should be pressed or cut into the coins, or maybe new coins should specifically be struck with some mark or flaw in them that a normal person would never notice, but which would be obvious to a person looking for it.

"In order to keep them from getting their money and then blowing the armory anyway—or staying in it and demanding even more money—you offer them a trade: a certain amount of coin in exchange for a certain amount of powder. And you just keep giving them marked coins—as quickly as you can finish them—and get powder in exchange. That way, the risk to the city lessens in proportion to the amount of money paid. Even if they decided to cut out early and blow the armory, it wouldn't be as devastating.

"But, ideally, they will take all of the money and then leave. And we could have people in all three kingdoms who are secretly on the lookout for those marked coins. Have the tax collectors put each person's tax payment into an individual bag with their name on it, then have your inspectors examine all of the coins for the mark. When you find marked coins, bring those people in for questioning. Of course, they may not be the bandits at all; they may be innocent merchants who just took payment. But you can tell the merchants that there is a counterfeiting ring that you are trying to catch and that they had counterfeit coins. So you teach them to identify the mark and tell them if someone gives them a coin with that mark, take note of the man: what he looks like, what he bought, how often he comes in. Then you can arrange to have your bailiffs in place so that when the man comes in again, the merchant can give a signal and he can be arrested.

"If you do it quietly—and if you trump up false charges that are completely unrelated to what they're actually wanted for—you might keep all of the bandits from figuring out that we're on to them and that their coinage is marked."

Once Amicehn finished, there was silence in the room for a long moment. She began to worry that everyone was trying to figure out a polite way to tell her that her idea was stupid and she needed to go back to the living room and take up embroidery because she knew nothing about statecraft.

She spread her hands. "It's just a thought I had. It may not work or be too impractical," she added, giving them the opportunity to politely decline her advice.

But the king said, "I don't think it's impractical at all; I think it's a wonderful idea. I will pass it on to the King of Erenrue at once."

Amichen smiled, feeling relieved and pleased. Naissus came over to her and took her hand in his, then leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Who told you that you wouldn't be a good queen?"


	15. The Proposal Question

The next few days were tense. The royal family of Erenrue was evacuated to Hyrule, except for the king, who stayed to oversee the negotiations with the hostage-takers. The queen and the Crown Prince and his wife and children retreated to the north wing of the castle with Wyliss and they were rarely seen, preferring to grieve and pray for the safety of the princess in private.

Talent was forced to come back, but Renault and Laertes helped the King of Erenrue organize the evacuation of Pallis. All of its inhabitants ended up camped out in tents on the plain in front of the city. That was done despite the fact that the bandits agreed to "pay" for their gold with powder. No one really trusted them, so they felt it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to people's lives.

Reluctantly, the king agreed that his two middle sons could stay in Erenrue and help with the refugees, so long as they stayed outside the city. But even so, the queen barely slept for worrying.

The only people left in Pallis, besides the King of Erenrue and his loyal guard, were the coiners. The king liked Amichen's idea about marking the coins to make them identifiable, but there wasn't time to make new dies. They discussed cutting a little mark in the edge of the coins, but worried that it would be hard to tell that from regular wear and tear. Finally, one of the royal coiners came up with a simple idea: mint one side of the coins upside down. In Erenrue, they always stamped their coins so that if you flipped the coin from side to side, you would always be looking at an upright image. Hyrule had always minted their coins so that if you flipped the coin from top to bottom, you would always have an upright image. Shi-Ha had never been consistent; which way it went was the preference of the chief coiner, who issued the guidelines for all the rest.

So, to a coiner, it would be perfectly obvious that the special Erenrue coinage has been minted upside down, but a lay person would never notice because it didn't differ from anyone else's coins.

It took longer than three days to mint all the coin needed, but the bandits allowed the deadline to pass since the king delivered a chest full of gold to them every day. He pled that they didn't have enough gold coin in the Royal Treasury—that much of the wealth of the kingdom was tied up in goods—and they had to raise a special tax on the people to get the remainder and, obviously, it took a while to go around and collect from everyone.

Of course that wasn't true—Erenrue had gold enough—but the bandits believed it, so it gave the coiners time enough to melt down the coinage and mint it into the marked coins.

Five days passed, then one morning, Amichen and her mother came down to breakfast to find Renault and Laertes.

"It's finished," Laertes said with great relief as Amichen and her mother joined the rest of the family at the table. "They have been given the last of the gold and they have left the armory."

"The princess?" Amichen asked hurriedly.

"She's alive," Renault said sadly. "That's about all that can be said for her."

Amichen paled. She barely felt Naissus reach out and take her hand in his. "Was she . . ?" She couldn't finish.

Renault nodded a little. He started to say something, but then turned his head away, as if it made him physically ill to even mention it.

"And Prince Fennris was her twin brother," Laertes said. "His death hits even her even harder."

Amichen's heart went out to the princess of Erenrue. She knew what it was like to watch someone you cared about die before your eyes, and then be subjected to repeated abuse. She vowed to write a letter to Lorralie immediately after breakfast and extend an offer of friendship to the young woman. Others would never fully comprehend what she had been through, but Amichen understood completely and she wanted the princess to know that there was someone she could talk to during the dark days that were coming.

"So now we wait?" Amichen's mother asked.

The king nodded. "Now we wait. But I don't expect it will be too long before they begin spending their gold. And then we will pick them off, one by one, as Amichen proposed."

Everyone looked at her—the Hyrulians with appreciation, her mother with guarded appraisal, as if she still wasn't quite sure that her daughter had come up with such a good plan.

"I have people in my treasury ready to inspect the money, as you proposed," Queen Xiao-Lin said. "If they begin to spend their Erenrue coin in my kingdom, we will track them down."

"And they're prepared to do the same in Erenrue," Renault said.

"And us," the king added. "We are all alike in our grief and determination to catch every last one of these murderers."

"I think that we will return to Shi-Ha tomorrow so that I can personally oversee any investigation," Amichen's mother said.

"Will you teleport back or ride?"

"We will have to ride, of course," she said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Amichen cannot teleport and I certainly won't send her back with only a small contingent, as before."

The room was suddenly silent and the entire royal family looked at Amichen. She knew this day would come, but she hated the thought of saying goodbye to these people who felt more like her family than her own mother and sister did.

She glanced at Naissus, but found him staring at his hand on the table; he was nervously drumming his fingers against the wood.

"So," he said quietly, "I take it that's a 'no'?"

She was confused. "What's a 'no'?"

"Your answer to my proposal."

She still wasn't sure what he was talking about. He finally looked up at her. "I asked you to marry me," he reminded her. "I was waiting until you got here and met my family and saw a bit of Hyrule before you gave me your answer. But . . . you want to go back to Shi-Ha?"

"No," she said bluntly, not even caring that her mother was sitting on her other side, listening. "No, I don't want to go back to Shi-Ha."

"It doesn't have to be an either/or proposition," the king said, speaking up. "If you wish to stay here, but do not wish to marry, that's fine as well. You could remain here as an ambassador." He looked at his son. "If that is alright with you?"

"I want Amichen to be happy," Naissus said, looking at the table again. "If she doesn't want to marry me, but wants to stay here, then I will be happy to be her friend."

Amichen felt as if her brain was swirling around like water in a maelstrom. "Wait . . . you still want to marry me?" she managed to ask.

Naissus looked at her, almost surprised. "What makes you think I rescinded my offer?"

"I just assumed . . ."

"What? That I would abandon you because of what happened to you—what _I_ allowed to happen to you? And that I would be too much of a coward to confess it?"

Amichen squirmed with embarrassment, unable to meet his accusing look. When he put it that way, yes, she had expected that from him and his family—simply because that's what she would expect in Shi-Ha. She should have known they would not be like that.

"Yes," she admitted, guiltily.

She felt his hand under her chin, and he slowly turned her to face him. "Amichen, I am not what you were promised, but you are _everything_ I was promised—and more. How could you think, after everything you've done for me, that I would not want you?"

"What makes you think that you're not what I was promised?"

"You were promised a young, healthy man who could take care of you. I am no longer healthy and obviously I couldn't take care of you when you needed it most—and will never be able to now. If you want to tell me 'no,' I understand. But my offer to you still stands."

She looked down. "Even . . . even though I may . . . have a child that is not yours?" she whispered, her face burning. She was still not sure if she was pregnant or not. Her cycle had never been terribly regular, so it was still impossible to say if it would come or not. The delay was beginning to become very worrisome, though.

He lifted her chin gently again and looked her in the eyes. "Your child is my child," he said firmly.

Amichen stared at him in disbelief for a moment. She had half-expected her mother to try and force Naissus to marry her and claim her child as his to cover up what happened, but she had never considered that Naissus would do it willingly.

She glanced at his family, but instead of grimacing or making some subtle sign that he should change his mind, they were all staring at her, waiting for her answer.

Unless she was fooling herself, they actually looked hopeful.

She turned back to Naissus. "Yes, I want to marry you," she said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to say.

His face lit up and he smiled brightly. It was the first real smile she had seen on him since before they were attacked. She had forgotten what it looked like. And despite his scars and eye patch, when he smiled, he looked just like the Naissus she had fallen in love with.

He seemed too emotional to say anything, so he just took her hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

Queen Maris was smiling just as brightly, looking close to tears. "Oh . . . finally some good news! We need good news."

They quickly went around the table, trying to set a date for the wedding. The king didn't feel that they should have it while they were still in mourning, but his wife pointed out that it might take quite some time to find all the bandits. Amichen's mother took the queen's side, saying that she would prefer to have the wedding before returning to her own kingdom.

Amichen knew that her mother wanted the marriage to take place before anyone could change their mind, but Amichen agreed with her for once: she didn't feel like waiting, either.

"I don't think . . . I don't think that the others would mind me getting married now," Naissus said, speaking up. "After all, they went all the way to Shi-Ha with me to help me get a bride. I think—if they're watching us from the Other World now—they would be insulted if we postponed the wedding on their account. They would rather we were happy than grieved—Rodger especially," he added sadly.

"That's true," his mother said, looking at her husband, her eyes pleading.

"Very well," he finally relented. "There will be a funeral for Prince Fennris this evening; we will attend it and then observe a week's mourning. After that, we will have the wedding."


	16. Courage

Amichen left breakfast and immediately went to her room to write a letter to Princess Lorralie. She poured out her heart, confessing how hard the first few days had been—how she had just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again—and that even weeks later, she still had frequent nightmares. In fact, that was one of the reasons why she had spent so many nights in Naissus' room; she needed the comfort of his presence as much as he needed hers.

She handed the fat envelope—filled with many handwritten pages—to Naissus a couple of hours later.

"I thought I might actually stay behind," he said, not taking the letter from her. "I don't want you to be here alone." Not only was Naissus' family planning on teleporting to Erenrue to attend the funeral, but Amichen's mother was teleporting home to finish making the wedding arrangements that she had started more than a month before. The rest of her force was marching back home with Hashin's body for burial in Shi-Ha.

"Don't stay behind on my account," Amichen replied. "Court goes places without me all the time; it doesn't bother me."

But it clearly bothered Naissus, because he frowned. "I don't like the idea of doing that. You are not an inconvenience that should just be pushed aside and ignored because people don't want to take the time and effort to include you."

Amichen felt her heart swell and she was glad that she had agreed to marry Naissus. "I appreciate your offer, but they can't delay the funeral any longer—for me or for anyone else," she pointed out. The bandits had kept the prince's body in the armory during the siege; the family hadn't recovered it until the bandits left five days after his death. He had to be buried as quickly as possible.

"Go to your cousin's funeral," Amichen pressed. "And deliver my letter."

He finally took the envelope from her hand. Then he leaned in, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll be back tonight."

She smiled. "I'll be here."

The family left shortly afterwards and Amichen finally got around to checking out their library. While combing through the stacks, she found an old book entitled _The Legend of Zelda & Link._ She expected it to have stories about them in it—some she might not have heard before—so she sat down to read it. She was surprised, though, when she read the introduction and found it wasn't just a collection of stories about them, but a complete recounting, from beginning to end, of their quest to save the world during the Dark Days. The author of the book, Errol, said that he heard the story directly from Queen Zelda herself, who hired his grandfather, Damen, the Blind Bard, to tell their story to Hyrule. Errol traveled with his grandfather for months, telling the story as the queen had commanded. His grandfather died not long after Link and Zelda married, and Errol had taken up his mantle, traveling Hyrule, and even to Erenrue and Shi-Ha, to tell the stories. Eventually, though, he noticed inaccuracies and sometimes outright fabrications creeping in to other people's versions, so he undertook writing a book to record the facts of the matter so that the truth didn't become myth.

Fascinated, Amichen began reading. She quickly found that Errol was right: a lot of what she had heard was embroidered, embellished, or just made up. But, in a lot of ways, the truth was more interesting, inspiring, and scarier than what had been made up. Amichen immediately identified with the young Princess Zelda, who had been all but locked in the castle and never got to go anywhere or do anything. But when she finally left the castle, her life became full of excitement as well as suffering and sorrow.

Amichen had to put down the book and cry when she came to the part where the army of Erenrue fell. Shi-Ha, as a general rule, still didn't care for Erenrue, even though the two kingdoms had been at peace for generations. Erenruites were usually the butt of jokes in Shi-Ha and there was lingering feeling of distrust for their former enemies. But even though Amichen was raised on that, she still couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness for the fall of Erenrue. The men who died on the field trying to fight Nagadii and the demons, and the men—including Prince Zeyde—who had died trying to get Link and Zelda out of the city, were the very model of chivalric virtue, and anyone with a sense of honor couldn't help but feel hurt at the loss of them, even hundreds of years later.

Amichen had her lunch served in the library so she could continue reading and was still there when Naissus came in late that evening.

" _There_ you are," he said with relief as he walked in.

She looked up from her book. "You really shouldn't be surprised to find me in a library; I love to read." She held up the book in her hands to show him. "I found this and it's really interesting. It's about—"

Before she could finish, Naissus pulled her to her feet and put his arm around her, holding her tight. "I'm so glad you're alright," he whispered.

Amichen was confused. "What are you talking about, Naissus?"

"When I came back, no one knew where you were; they all said they hadn't seen you since this morning," he explained. "It took me a while to find someone who knew where you were. I was about to command the guard to start a room-by-room search."

"What's going on?" Amichen asked. She didn't understand why Naissus should be in such a panic at not being able to immediately find her. His sister, Tosha, only ever appeared at meals and no one seemed to find her extended absence alarming.

"Lorralie is dead."

Amichen gasped.

Naissus sat down wearily, then reached inside his cote and pulled out the letter Amichen had written to Lorralie. He tossed it on the table, still unopened.

"What happened?" Amichen whispered.

"Right before the funeral, she jumped from a tower. We buried her alongside her brother. They were born together and now they will go into the Other World together."

He leaned on his elbow, rubbing his tired face. "It was so awful, Ami," he whispered. "Fennris and Lorralie were the youngest children, and they were born after Valla and Ricard lost several babies. So they were especially doted on by everyone. Fennris' loss was hard enough, but to lose Lorralie, too . . . Just when we all thought she had been saved, she was lost."

He looked up at her. "And the first thing I thought about was you . . . and how we had left you behind. I worried that you might be alone with your grief and pain and you might be moved to do something like that. I came back just as soon as I could, but when I looked for you, I couldn't find you. And no one else knew where you were and hadn't seen you for hours. I was terrified that you were lying dead in some empty room or hidden corner."

"I admit that there were times when I wished I would die," Amichen said. "But I just wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep and never wake up. I don't think I could have ever willfully killed myself; I don't have enough courage to do something that would be so painful."

Naissus put his arm around her waist, pulling her close, and looked up at her. "No, Amichen, you have a lot of courage—the courage it takes to live when living is painful."

Amichen suddenly remembered what Zelda had told her: that she was brave for agreeing to live.

"I did have to have someone talk me into it," Amichen confessed. She looked at the unopened letter on the table. "I was hoping that I could do the same for Lorralie."

"Who talked you into it?" Naissus asked, looking up at her curiously.

"Zelda and Link."

He continued to look at her in confusion. "What?"

She realized then that she had never told him what had happened in the forest when she was hovering between life and death.

She pulled up another chair and recounted the story of the beautiful woman and man who came to help her—and him—and how she didn't even know who they were until she saw their images on their tomb.

Naissus was silent as she spoke, but his eye grew wider as he listened.

"They . . . actually appeared?" he finally asked.

"I'm not sure if I was really awake or if it I was just dreaming it—"

"But you think it was really them?" he interrupted.

"I think so. Your mother seemed certain that it was real. She said something about a legend that they would watch over their descendants." She patted the book she had been reading. "That's part of the reason why I wanted to read this book when I found it—to see if it mentioned it."

Naissus picked up the book, examining it. "This looks familiar; I think I read it a long time ago. If it's the one I'm thinking about, it doesn't cover Link and Zelda's deaths because it was written while they were still alive."

He put the book down and flipped to the back. After read for a few minutes, he nodded. "Yes, see, this covers the birth of their children, but not their deaths. The writer was a contemporary of them and almost certainly human, so they would have outlived him."

"I suppose it doesn't matter whether what I saw was real or not," Amichen said. "What matters is that it kept me going."

"Well, I prefer to think it's true," Naissus declared. "I mean, to think that Link stood over me and said that I needed to live! It makes you feel important, you know—to be singled out by someone like him."

"I guess they didn't have time to speak to Princess Lorralie," Amichen said sadly.

"Or maybe they did but she chose not to heed them," he pointed out. "You said yourself that you had a choice—and you chose to live." He put his hand over hers. "And I lived because you did."

She shook her head. "I didn't do very much to help you. I couldn't. I think you would have survived even if I hadn't been there."

"Maybe I would have lived until Talent found me, but I don't think I would have lived very long afterward. For days, I felt like . . . like I was surrounded by darkness, and I couldn't see or hear or breathe. But when I think back to that time, I think of you as a little candle burning in the darkness. And that little bit of light was enough to keep me going."


	17. A Shi-Ha Wedding

Despite the added grief for the royal family, Amichen and Naissus' wedding went ahead as scheduled. Neither of them wanted anything too elaborate, so they opted to get married at the monastery. A short parade was planned for Naissus and his family the morning of the wedding, then Amichen and a contingent from Shi-Ha would follow shortly thereafter. Following the wedding, everyone would process back to the castle and have dinner together. Then Amichen and Naissus would live at the castle until their future home could be planned and built.

On the morning of her wedding, Amichen was scrubbed within an inch of her life by three maids from Shi-Ha under her mother's hawk-like gaze. Then, once her hair had been combed until it was dry and oiled until it was glossy, her mother personally dressed her.

First came the loose linen shift that fell to her ankles. Over this went a white silk brocade dress that had patterns of clouds and cranes in black and silver threads woven into it. The dress fit through the body and laced up the front with silver cording. It was a little longer than floor-length in the front, but in the back it extended some three or four feet behind her in a little train. The sleeves were fairly narrow and so long that the cuffs hung down to mid-calf on her when her arms were at her sides.

Over this went a robe of emerald green that had patterns of green and gold bamboo and mountains woven into it. The green robe fell to her ankles and the wide sleeves came to the tips of her fingers. It buttoned with a single button at the waist and the V-shaped neckline was just slightly wider than that of the white underdress.

The next layer was a blue robe patterned with silver waves and various fishes of silver and turquoise and darker blues. It was slightly smaller than the green gown so that the green showed around the hem and at the wrists and at the neckline.

Next was a yellow silk robe with ornate, stylized sun patterns and phoenixes in flight in gold and silver threads. It was shorter yet, showing the other layers in perfect gradation.

The final and shortest robe of all was red silk and it was patterned with orange and black tigers. Each layer represented an element of Shi-Ha: white for its beautiful skies and fresh air; green for its bamboo forests and mountains; blue for its coastlines and abundant marine life; yellow for the bright sun and the desert that formed its southern border; and finally red for the fire of the Tiger Dynasty.

Over everything went a black silk corselet that was cinched up as tight as the maids could get without causing the fabric to buckle under the strain.

Then the maids moved the room's full-length mirror closer so Amichen could see herself. She was rather surprised by her reflection. She looked much different than she had just a month ago when she was formally dressed for her first meeting with Naissus. She looked older—but in a good way—and, without even meaning to, she carried her head more proudly and her shoulders were back—not perpetually slouched like a cringing dog, waiting for a beating.

She looked regal . . . like a real princess should look.

"I know you didn't want to marry when I first arranged all of this," her mother said, looking at her critically. "Have you changed your mind?"

Amichen turned to look at her mother. For the first time, the older woman looked at her as an equal, not as a domineering woman who was constantly putting her down. "Yes, I have," Amichen answered levelly. "I love the people of Hyrule, and Naissus, in particular. I want to stay here."

Her mother smiled. "I knew you would."

"How did you know?"

"I had a star chart made for you, the same as any child," her mother said with a shrug.

Amichen was surprised. She didn't know she had a star chart. She had just assumed her mother hadn't gone to the trouble of having one made since she found her human daughter rather useless.

"What did it say?" Amichen asked.

"It said that you would be a queen, but not of Shi-Ha. And as you grew older, I saw that it must be true, because there was no way that you could ever hold Shi-Ha together. So that left Erenrue or Hyrule. But you didn't seem to have enough fierceness to be a woman of Erenrue, so that left Hyrule."

Amichen looked at her mother in confusion. "A queen? I will never be queen of Hyrule. Naissus is the eighth child; there is no way that he will inherit the throne."

"I must admit, I've been watching the deaths in both of the royal families with . . . caution," her mother said delicately. "I have wondered if enough of them would die to leave you and Naissus as survivors. But I don't think that will happen."

Amichen shook her head. "Nor would I ever wish it to happen. I love Naissus' family; I would never wish ill on any of them—especially to take a throne I don't want in the first place. I think your astrologer must have misread the stars. Or maybe he was afraid to tell you that your eldest child would never be a queen."

"Perhaps," her mother said, but she sounded unconvinced.

A maid handed the queen an oval piece of white, opaque silk and her demeanor changed. She looked at Amichen with something that almost looked like sorrow.

"What is it?" Amichen asked quietly when her mother stood staring at her, unmoving, for a minute.

"I am looking at my daughter for the last time," she said, her voice almost sounding choked. "The next time you emerge, you will be Naissus' wife and a princess of Hyrule. You will dress as they do and wear their crown on your hair, styled as they style their hair. You will keep their holidays and customs, eat their food and learn to play their instruments and sing their songs. You will live in their land and one day be buried with them.

"And I know you will not look back because this is the place where you belong. I don't know why the gods decided that you should be born to me, but I have always known that you never really belonged to me and my world; you were just on loan and one day I would have to give you back."

"Is that why you've never liked me?" Amichen asked baldly. "Because you never thought I really belonged to you?"

Her mother actually looked shocked. "Amichen, I don't dislike you."

"But you don't like me, either," Amichen pointed out. "I have never been anything but a disappointment to you."

Then her mother did something very surprising: she pulled Amichen close and hugged her tightly.

"Amichen," her mother said after a minute's silence, "you are not a disappointment to me."

It was Amichen's turn to be stunned into silence. Who was this woman, and what had she done with the mother she had known all of her life?

Her mother pulled away and she had tears—honest-to-gods tears—in her eyes. She seemed to struggle to find something to say, but she finally gave up and placed the white veil on Amichen's head, blotting out her vision.

Amichen was suddenly reminded of something Naissus' mother had told her: some people have trouble expressing love. Xiao-Lin had grown up with a verbally-abusive father who bullied her mother. She was barely a teenager when her mother died and it was her turn to receive her father's abuse. She had ended it by having him executed and she had finished growing up as an orphan who didn't have the love of either parent.

Was love something you had to _learn_ from people who loved you? Or was it something that came naturally but could be taken away by hard circumstances and bad people?

Amichen tried to see the world through her mother's eyes when she had been handed a dark-eyed, human baby whose star chart proclaimed that she would one day be queen . . . but not of Shi-Ha. From the very beginning, her mother knew that Amichen would leave to rule another kingdom. And as Amichen grew older, it had only became more obvious that she was ill-suited for Shi-Ha and would one day find her place in the sun elsewhere.

Had her mother pulled away because she knew she would lose Amichen one day? Had she withheld her love, not because she didn't like Amichen, but because she felt the need to protect herself? It fit a pattern: Amichen's mother had never loved a man or even trusted one enough to marry. For all her courage in the saddle, for all her strength with a sword, for all her sheer presence when she strode through a hall, barking orders at everyone and keeping the nobles in line, Xiao-Lin guarded herself more fiercely than her kingdom.

Amichen felt, rather than saw, the maids place the gold- and pearl-beaded crown on her head. She would have to keep the opaque veil on until Naissus removed it later that evening. If a noble girl was considered so desirable that she would drive common men to madness, then a bride on her wedding day was a hundred times worse. Even noblemen couldn't be trusted to look upon her. Whether because it was really true, or because people had just come to believe it, more than one blood-feud had begun at a wedding when a man fell so madly in love with a beautiful bride, he kidnapped her before the vows could be finished. So it became custom to veil the bride so that no man could see her.

But Amichen wasn't sure that was the real reason why the custom came into existence since it had other, more sinister applications. Because the groom didn't see his bride until their wedding night, it was possible for the bride's family to trick him into marrying a different girl—usually an unwanted daughter. That had led to more than a fair share of feuds, too, but if a powerful family was marrying one with less power, there was usually nothing the poor bridegroom could do about the switch.

Sometimes it went the other way, though, and brides were tricked by their parents into marrying a different groom. That usually happened when a girl fell in love with someone her parents didn't approve of. They agreed to allow the couple to marry, but at the last minute, substituted their choice for bridegroom. Unless the bride had a friend in the audience to warn her before she was at the altar, she would end up married and unable to do anything about it.

"There," Amichen heard her mother pronounce. "You're ready."

Amichen found herself a little nervous. For the rest of the day, she would be at the mercy of other people; she had to trust that they would take care of her and not trick her at the last minute.

Perhaps the veil, ultimately, was a sign of a daughter's loyalty to her parents. She would marry whomever her parents gave her to and trust that they knew best.

Amichen held her hand out. She found her mother's hand and, through the sleeve, she gripped it tightly. She felt her mother squeeze her hand back just as tightly.

"We will go slowly," her mother said. "Everyone waits on the bride today."

Amichen let her mother lead her, blindly, through the castle. She had to shuffle slowly to keep from stepping on the long hem of her dress, but the queen's normally long stride shortened to match hers and she never gave any sign of impatience.

At the grand staircase, Amichen put one hand on the rail and kept hold of her mother's hand with the other. But, surprisingly enough, she found it easier to go down the stairs than walk since her feet moved down before the long dress did.

They shuffled across the entrance hall and out onto the landing. There was no handrail at the front stairs, so Amichen went even slower, but with her mother's steadying presence, she made it down them without incident.

"There is a sedan chair here," her mother quietly warned her. "Step up."

Amichen stepped up onto a platform, then let her mother position her in front of the chair.

"Sit," her mother commanded.

She sat down in a straight-backed chair that was made slightly more comfortable by silken pillows in the seat and at the back.

At a shouted command, Amichen felt the seat rise up smoothly into the air. Her mother had brought in a small retinue of people from Shi-Ha to process her to her wedding—including trained litter bearers.

There was a blast of two trumpets, then the procession began to move forward—although Amichen could hardly feel it, the bearers were so smooth and practiced in their gait.

From behind her came the sound of Shi-Ha instruments—high-pitched and warbling. The sound was so unexpected, she nearly jumped out of her seat with surprise. She made a mental note to ask her mother to leave some of them behind so she would have something to play. Renault, especially, had expressed an interest in her foreign instruments.

The processional trumpets blared again and Amichen heard a shout of people; she assumed they were passing through the castle gates and into the city.

"Oh, look! She's so exotic!"

"Why is she wearing a piece of fabric on her head?"

"I heard that in Shi-Ha, brides are always covered because they're so beautiful, men will go mad if they see them."

"I saw her a few weeks ago; she certainly is beautiful. But I didn't go mad."

"Are you sure?"

Amichen smiled, although no one could see it. All around her, people were cheering and clapping. Despite the fact that there was never any shortage of royal weddings in Hyrule, people still loved to see one.

It would have looked silly to wave around her long sleeve, so Amichen began discreetly nodding to the cheering crowds on either side of her. She wasn't supposed to move or gesture at all—she was supposed to be a picture of perfect obedience—the dutiful daughter going to marry her parents' choice without protest or so much as a flinch—but they were in Hyrule, after all, and the people of Castle Town, especially, were used to interacting with their monarchs. She didn't want them to mistake her rigidity for fear or trepidation. She was happy to have this match.

Before long, the gentle swaying of the sedan chair stopped and it was lowered to the ground with hardly a bump. Amichen sat perfectly still until her mother came and took her by the hand. Then she rose and followed her mother.

"Step down," the queen warned.

Amichen stepped off the platform. A great fanfare began to blow and they seemed to walk right through the noise—so loud, Amichen felt as if she could touch it. Then it grew rather dark as they passed out of the sunlight and into the cool interior of the stone Sanctuary.

Amichen's nose was immediately pierced by the pungent aroma of half a dozen different smells, which melded together into a scent that was completely familiar: it was the smell of holy incense, used in every major religious ceremony in Shi-Ha. Amichen knew, from attending other weddings, that the entire space would be filled with clouds of dense, pungent smoke, and the polite, muffled coughing from the guests confirmed it. Thankfully, though, her veil kept most of the smoke away from her face, so she was left only with the scent which, because it was so familiar to her, was pleasant.

She shuffled slowly up the aisle, her grip tight on her mother's hand. This could have been her wedding in Shi-Ha, had Naissus agreed to marry her before they left. But Amichen was rather glad she had the chance to get to know him _before_ the wedding. She would have surely come to feel the same way about him regardless, but she was going to her wedding now with much less trepidation; she _knew_ that he was a good man and would be a good husband. And that was always better than being uncertain.

Her mother stopped moving and Amichen did the same. Then, she felt her mother pick up her hand and move it over to a new hand. As he had done in Shi-Ha, Naissus held her hand firmly in his instead of just letting it rest on his.

"Are you under there?" she heard him whisper a moment later. "Your mother hasn't played a trick on me, has she?"

Amichen almost giggled, but repressed the shameful sound. She wasn't supposed to speak at all, but she didn't want Naissus to actually worry when she didn't respond. "I don't know," she whispered back. "Maybe she's tricked _me_. How do I know you're my Suss?"

"Well, you must be my Ami if you know my nickname."

"And you must be the real Suss if you called me by mine."

The priest—who Amichen knew had been imported from Shi-Ha just for the service—cleared his throat severely, cutting short their joking.

He began reciting a rather lengthy sermon on the importance of the unification of Shi-Ha and Hyrule during such dangerous times, and he spoke of the duties that a prince and princess owed to their people, and the duties that a husband and wife owed to each other. Amichen grew rather bored with it all, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as her feet—clad in thin silk slippers—began to ache from standing on the stone floor.

Finally, he got to the vows.

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to care for her and protect her and provide for her for as long as she may live? And do you promise to care, protect, and provide for any children that she may have, with the gods' blessing?"

"I do," Naissus said clearly.

Amichen prayed that the children wouldn't come until later—much later—but if fate was not kind to her, she knew that Naissus would uphold his vow.

Then the priest began a long prayer, invoking all the gods by name and asking each for their specific blessing.

Amichen felt Naissus shift awkwardly next to her. She wondered if he, like her, was just tired of standing, or if he was bothered by the fact that she had no vows of her own. In Shi-Ha, if the bride showed up, the bride got married; no one asked her if she consented; no one gave her the opportunity to back out.

She had the feeling that Naissus didn't approve of the wedding ceremony. But, in the end, it didn't matter; she consented. Naissus had already made sure she had gotten the opportunity to do so.

After what felt like another half hour of prayers and blessings, the priest finally pronounced them "husband and wife."

Overhead, the bells began to peal, announcing to everyone in Castle Town that the wedding had taken place.

Amichen felt Naissus turn to her and start to lift her veil, but the priest quickly stopped him.

"You mustn't do that here," he hissed, his voice almost lost in the sound of the bells and the spectators clapping.

"Why mustn't I?" Naissus asked, sounding indignant. "She's my wife; I have a right to kiss her."

"Not until tonight."

"What!?"

"No man may look on her until you've bedded her, Your Highness. It would drive them mad."

"You're driving _me_ mad."

Amichen reached for Naissus' hand and found it. "Let's humor my mother for today," she told him. "As she said this morning, this is the last day I will be her daughter and a princess of Shi-Ha; tomorrow, I will dress as a Hyrulian and do as you do and be a princess of Hyrule. I will not keep Shi-Ha's customs any more after today."

That seemed to mollify him. He tucked her hand into the crook of her arm, then slowly led her out of the dim Sanctuary. Even though the white veil shielded her eyes from the direct sunlight, she still squinted against the light which came through it.

Naissus helped her into the sedan chair, then took his place in the chair which had been added beside hers. He never let go of her hand.

They were lifted into the air as effortlessly as before and they began to progress back to the city.

"I don't wish to speak ill of your customs," Naissus said in a low voice, "but I'm glad you're adopting mine instead of the other way around."

She chuckled. "I am too."

"I don't like the fact that you didn't recite any vows," he said, confirming her suspicion. "If I had known that in advance, I would have made your mother change it, whether she approved or not."

"What do you do at a Hyrulian wedding?"

"Well, for one thing, the bride can see where she's going. They wear veils, but they're lace or sheer so that they can see. And both the man and the woman recite vows and plight their troth. And once it's done, the man removes or folds back the veil and kisses the woman to seal the deal, as it were."

"How scandalous."

"What? A kiss?"

"Not just that, but that he would remove her veil and kiss her in public."

"Why is that so odd to you?"

She giggled. "Naissus, do you not know what the veil represents?"

"I hadn't thought about it, really," he admitted.

"It represents a woman's chastity. When a man takes off a woman's veil—and especially when he kisses her—he is symbolically taking away her chastity and consummating their relationship.

"That you do it in public is, I suppose, a way of declaring the marriage consummated and unbreakable immediately, but for us, the veil is not removed until the wedding night."

It suddenly struck Amichen that in a few short hours, Naissus would do that very thing. And that broke her out in a cold sweat. She had consented to marry Naissus—had even looked forward to being married to him—but had forgotten—or maybe purposefully ignored—the fact that once married, they would surely lie together like other married couples.

She had never worried about it before because, even though she had shared a bed with Naissus, she knew his chivalry would not allow him to so much as touch her inappropriately. But now that they were married, there was nothing to stop him from going farther—nor would he see any reason why he ought not. And that suddenly terrified her.

"Are you unwell?" he suddenly asked her. "Your hand is trembling."

Amichen hurriedly racked her brain for a lie. "I didn't have anything to eat this morning." That was true, but she still felt immediately guilty for not telling him the real reason.

"I'm sorry," he replied. "We'll be eating as soon as we get back to the castle."

A short time later, they were seated at the high table with the king queen. Today, they were guests of honor and they sat at the king's right, where Talent and his wife—as heirs—normally sat.

At least, that's what Amichen was told; she could still see nothing.

"Really, do you still have to wear that veil?" Naissus said, sounding irritated.

"It will please my mother."

"You're my wife now; when do you get around to pleasing me?"

He said it as a joke, but it instantly brought to mind Amichen's earlier worries about their wedding night and her heart began to race again.

"Besides," he added, obviously unable to see that there was something wrong, "how can you eat with it on?"

"Carefully."

Amichen proved that the veil was no real impediment to eating and drinking, so long as she did both slowly. She would simply pull the bottom of the silk away from her neckline and slip her fork or glass of wine underneath it. She did skip the soup dishes, but she was able to try everything else, so long as Naissus put it on her plate and told her what it was.

"I don't know how you eat with your sleeve over your hand like that," Naissus said at one point. "And even though you can't see, you don't drag it in your food. How do you do that?"

She laughed. "Years of practice. I have been wearing sleeves like this since I was a child."

In between courses there were entertainments. Naissus had to describe the jugglers and contortionists and acrobats to Amichen, but she was able to enjoy the jester's jokes and the troubadours' singing without any aid.

The feast lasted hours, but it still seemed to end too soon when she head Naissus quietly tell his father. "It's about time, don't you think?"

The next thing Amichen knew, her mother was whispering in her ear. "Time to go."

Someone pulled her chair out from under the table and Amichen stood up. She heard the echo of chairs and benches scraping the floor as everyone in the hall rose for her. The troubadour began to sing a song about springtime and two lovers in love and everyone in the hall joined in as Amichen's mother led her out.

Getting up the stairs was a much bigger problem than getting down them, but Amichen hardly noticed the struggle; she was growing steadily more terrified of what would happen once she was in Naissus' room. She kept having visions of the bearded pirate who wrestled her to the ground. She fought against the mental images, not wanting to see them, but they kept coming back up anyway. It disturbed her so much, she actually felt ill, and she put her hand over her mouth, lest she be sick.

She knew Naissus wouldn't hurt her; he would hurt himself before he ever hurt her. But, just as in the forest, her instinct seemed to overwhelm her rational brain and it kept telling her that she need to flee because she was in imminent danger.

She heard a door open, but she barely paused on the threshold. Just a few steps later, her mother stopped her, then turned her around—presumably so she could face the door.

Then, maybe because she was too emotional to say anything, her mother left the room without a word.

Amichen stood immobile—not because she was supposed to, but because she truly couldn't move. A few minutes later, she heard the bedroom door open again, then close.

" _Now_ can you take the veil off?" Naissus asked.

Amichen opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn't.

A moment later, a hand lifted her veil and Naissus peeked under. It would have been funny if Amichen hadn't been terrified. "You _are_ under there."

She felt her crown lift off, then the veil was pulled away and she saw that she was in Naissus' room. The curtains were drawn over the windows and it was dark, save for a lone candle on the table beside the bed.

He looked at her for a long moment in the candlelight, then he put his hand around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, kissing her rather passionately.

Amichen wanted to like it—she wanted to like that he wanted her—but the closer he came to her, the more she wanted to run. She kept telling herself over and over again that she was with Naissus—that she had wanted this from him once—but her emotions continued to overwhelm her.

His hand found the lacing of her corselet and began to untie it. As he continued to kiss her, he pulled the cord from the eyelets until the corselet finally fell away.

He pulled back for a moment to look at her clothing, then he reached for the button that held her red robe closed. He struggled with the button a little—he was still not very dexterous with his right hand—but Amichen did nothing to help him.

He finally unfastened it on his own, though, and he pushed the robe off her shoulders. The fabric was so silky, it slid off her easily and fell to the floor like a puddle of red water.

"Do you always dress like this for weddings, or did your mother just want to test me?" Naissus said, good-naturedly, as he tackled the next layer.

It took Amichen a couple of tries to speak. "It's traditional for a princess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Each layer represents an element of Shi-Ha."

"So, I have to dig through all of Shi-Ha to find you?" he asked with a smile. "Well, it's worth it."

Off came the yellow robe, then the blue robe, then the green robe. But Naissus paused when he came to the lacing on the white dress. "Really?" he asked, sounding half-amused and half-aggravated.

But he gamely tackled the dress, slowly unlacing it with his one hand until it fell open and he was able to push it off her shoulders. She was left wearing nothing but the thin linen shift.

Naissus unbuckled his sword belt and dropped it to the floor with Amichen's clothing, then took off his crown and tossed it onto the pile. He was wearing a short-sleeved, sapphire-blue tunic that was elaborately embroidered in silver and gold and black. He wasn't wearing his left arm in a sling like he usually did, which made him look less injured than he really was. Only when he was moving around did it become obvious that he never moved his left arm.

He bent over and grabbed the back of his tunic, pulling it and his undershirt both over his head. He struggled a little with it, but, again, Amichen didn't move to help him. She just couldn't make herself take a step towards the inevitable.

He finally got out of his shirts, then he kicked off his boots and untied the drawstring of his pants, pushing them down, so that he was left standing in front of her in nothing but his underwear.

Amichen looked away, embarrassed at seeing so much of him and afraid of what was coming next. But nothing came next.

Finally, she glanced up at him and found that he looked awkward and unsure.

He cleared his throat nervously. "I . . . um . . . don't really know how to go about doing this. I mean . . . I know what to do in theory, but with my arm . . ."

Amichen felt her heart leap in her chest as she filled with relief. "That's alright," she said eagerly. "I didn't want to do anything anyway."

He looked thunderstruck. "Oh."

An even more awkward silence fell between them. Amichen realized then that she had made a mistake: Naissus hadn't been seeking her permission to get out of his marital duty because of his crippled arm; he had been trying to warn her that he would likely be awkward—maybe even inept—and perhaps he was even seeking her reassurance that they would work it out and everything would be fine.

Naissus was staring at his bare feet. "Is . . . is it me?" he asked quietly.

"No, it's not you," she assured him.

"I thought maybe . . . because of the way I look. . ."

"Naissus, I knew what you looked like before I agreed to marry you; that's obviously not an issue for me."

"Only now you can really see how weak and useless I am."

She sighed, then stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed. "No, that's not it at all. It's just . . . after what happened . . ." She looked away. "I'm not sure if I can ever do this. I keep . . . I keep seeing them . . ." Tears began to choke her. "I don't want to see . . . but I can't stop."

Naissus sat beside her and put his arm around her. She held onto him, crying on his shoulder.

"I won't ever be like that," he said.

"I know. I know. But . . . I can't help feeling this way."

He quietly stroked her hair while she cried out her tears.

"We're both very broken people," he said after a long time. And Amichen couldn't argue with him, because it was true.


	18. The Gray Fog

The next morning was awful. When Naissus and Amichen went to breakfast, there was much smiling and innuendo-laden joking from all the married couples present.

"Here're the newlyweds!"

"I see you finally managed to get Ami out of all that Shi-Ha regalia. I was wondering if I should offer to help!"

"Amichen, you look tired."

"I didn't sleep well," she said—which was true; she had nightmares most of the night. Naissus had to wake her up twice because she was crying and whimpering in her sleep.

"I bet you didn't!" Talent said, slapping his brother on the back. "They say knights are more passionate because we wait longer."

"Oh, is that your excuse?" Wyliss teased her husband.

"I haven't heard any complaints," he shot back, perking a brow.

Amichen glanced at Naissus. He had a smile plastered on his face, as if he was happily going along with the joking, but she could tell by the stiffness of his posture that he was as uncomfortable as she was.

Thankfully, the king changed the subject by announcing that a marked coin had turned up in Shi-Ha overnight and they were trying to track down where it came from. The conversation for the rest of breakfast remained on the subject of the bandits, where they might be, and how long it would take to catch them all—if they could ever know how many of them there really were.

After breakfast, Naissus went out to the Academy to practice his swordplay and Amichen went with him. While he was practicing, one of the brothers showed her around the institution—from the young students diligently bent over their desks, studying, to the older squires practicing together or under the eyes of an instructor or their knight-mentor.

Amichen eventually took a seat against one wall of the compound and watched Naissus practice with what appeared to be another knight. She knew that he was very bitter about losing the use of his left arm—although he tried his best not to express it. Once a knight, the accolade was never removed, no matter how crippled or elderly a man became, but Naissus wasn't ready to hang up his sword and declare himself retired just yet.

So, when he had time, he came to the Academy and worked with someone to build up his right arm. He had told Amichen that he had learned to fight right-handed—just as all students were made to fight with their non-dominant hand from time to time—but he was slower and less coordinated with it. And with having no use of his left hand, he couldn't hold a shield or even a two-handed sword. So he was having to learn how to both attack and defend with a single sword.

"You're going to have to keep it in front of you, as if it was a two-handed sword," Naissus' instructor said. "You have to have a center stance so you can protect both of your sides. But you have to take a high guard because your sword isn't very long—not compared to a two-handed sword."

The instructor threw a few blows with his wooden sword. Naissus managed to block the first two—albeit it clumsily—but the third hit him in the right arm; he had dropped his guard too much.

Naissus backed off, shaking his head. "I'm just not getting this."

"You've barely started learning. This will take time." The instructor gestured for him to reengage. "Come on. I know you're no quitter."

That seemed to reenergize Naissus and he resumed the practice. He seemed to do a bit better after that, but even Amichen could tell that the instructor wasn't attacking as fast as he had been at the start.

"You need to practice on the pell," the instructor said, as they broke for a rest. "Get that right arm stronger and faster and as coordinated as your left was. That will make it a lot easier for you to block and eventually you'll be able to throw blows between blocks."

Naissus nodded, panting too heavily to respond. The other man clapped him on the shoulder, then walked away. Apparently the lesson was done for the day.

Naissus walked over to Amichen and collapsed onto the bench beside her with a heavy sigh. "Gods, I'm slow!" he complained.

"I'm sure you'll get better," Amichen said.

Naissus caught the attention of one of the squires walking across the courtyard and gestured to him. The young man trotted over. "Yes, sir?"

"Water, please."

The boy hurried off, then came back a minute later with a tin cup full of cold water. Naissus took it, but he offered the first drink to Amichen.

The day was warm and, although she hadn't felt thirsty, the water still tasted good.

She offered the remaining half to Naissus, who downed it in a couple of gulps.

"More, sir?" the squire asked.

"I'm fine for now. Thank you," he said, handing the cup back. The boy bowed his head, then left.

"How did he know you were a knight?" she asked. "I mean, you're here training like the rest of them."

Naissus chuckled. "Besides the fact that he's probably seen me around?"

"Oh, is that?"

Naissus pointed to another boy crossing the yard. "Do you see his red belt?"

"Yes."

"Squires wear red belts. Students wear green. I don't have on either, so I'm either a knight or a guest, and regardless of which I am, I am addressed as 'sir'."

"Why the colored belts?"

"Not everyone advances at the same time, so age isn't always a good indication of someone's status. Having a little marker of status just helps the instructors and know where someone stands. A lot of the instructors for the squires are not here permanently; they come in to teach a specific skill for a brief time, then leave. They're not necessarily familiar with all the students."

"Like Reni?"

"Yes, like him. He comes in for a few weeks every year to teach tracking."

"Have you ever taught?"

He shook his head. "No. But I'm still young; I've only been a knight a little over a year. I'm not experienced enough to teach anything."

"What was it that your brother said this morning about knights being passionate?"

Naissus looked confused. "Passionate?"`

"Yes, something about being passionate because you wait a long time. Did he mean all the years you spend training?"

It took Naissus another few seconds, but he finally caught on. And his face immediately grew darker. "No, that's not what he meant," he said in a clipped tone.

He looked out over the practice yard and remained silent. Amichen was even more curious now about what Talent had said, but she also could see that Naissus didn't approve and she didn't want to make him angry by pressing him to explain.

But after a minute, he explained without prompting. "Squires are expected to remain chaste," he said. "Self-denial is considered a virtue—character-building. If you get caught being unchaste, it's not career-ending, but you will be shamed—and very severely if you compromised a woman's reputation. Once you're a knight, though, you aren't allowed to compromise a woman on pain of excommunication, which leaves marriage, chastity, or harlots as your only options. And I can't say I know of a knight who has been with a loose woman."

Amichen knew then what had been hinted at: Naissus was a virgin. And apparently it was generally assumed that knights were virgins when they married.

Amichen found that rather odd since young noblemen in Shi-Ha routinely kept a mistress before marriage—and sometimes after it. Only noblewomen were expected to keep chaste; noblemen and common women weren't restricted. In fact, many poor girls reckoned it a great reward to be a wealthy man's mistress since it meant being kept in a life much richer than anything she could earn through the labor of her hands.

That Naissus should still be a virgin when she was not bothered her; it went against everything she had been taught since childhood. And the fact that everyone assumed that they now had a passionate love affair only added to the awkwardness.

* * *

The days slowly passed and grew longer as spring began to yield to summer. But despite the fact that light was flooding the world, and there seemed to be constant amusements at the castle or in the city, and invitations from nobles around the kingdom—eager to host the newly-married couple—came flooding in, Amichen retreated more and more into seclusion. She appeared less in the living room to play or sing for the others; instead, she spent her days in the library reading, or sitting in the bedroom at a window, watching while the others had fun on the green lawn in the warm sunlight.

Amichen had thought the darkness within her had broken when she decided that she didn't want to die, but it had only changed its color. It was now a heavy gray fog—as thick as any coming in off the sea—and it smothered her under its weight. She didn't want to die, but neither did she want to live. More and more, she just wanted to lie in bed and not get out of it.

And always there was the constant knowledge that she must be pregnant. She wasn't sick, but she didn't have an appetite, either. The queen kept delicately asking questions, trying to determine if her daughter-in-law was with child, but Amichen's answers were as gray as her mood; maybe everything was a sign, or maybe it was all a coincidence. She was due to start showing soon, so that would be a definitive answer.

Sometimes Amichen rubbed her belly for hours, trying to decide if it felt bigger than the day before. Sometimes she was convinced that it was definitely bigger, but other times not. She was more than halfway to making herself sick with just worry.

Naissus came home from practice one day and found her curled up in a chair at the window, her head resting against the glass. Tears were silently running down her cheeks.

Naissus went over to her and turned the chair around so that she had to face him. Then he dropped to his knees before her and took one of her hands in his. "Ami, tell me what's wrong," he whispered.

She looked away, the tears coming faster now. "I made a mistake," she mumbled.

"You haven't made any error so grave that it can't be fixed," he promised.

She shook her head a little. "I shouldn't have married you." A little sob escaped, but she choked it back down. She had been thinking about this for days, but didn't know how to bring it up to Naissus. But she knew that she needed to tell him.

"Do you hate being married to me that much?" he said, obviously trying—but failing—to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I hate that I'm no wife to you. I married you because . . . because I was selfish—because I didn't want to go home. And I like you, but . . . I think it would have been better if we had just been friends. That way, you would have been free to marry some woman who would have loved you like you deserve."

"Do you really not love me, Ami?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. I mean no. I mean . . . I love you, but not enough."

"Shouldn't _I_ be the one to judge whether you love me enough? And isn't the fact that I _haven't_ said it proof that I'm not dissatisfied?"

"How could you not be?" she asked in astonishment. "How could any man—much less a young man—not be dissatisfied with a wife who won't go to bed with him?"

"Is that what this is really about?" He reached up and gently brushed away the tears on her cheeks. "Amichen," he said, looking at her seriously, "I didn't marry you because I wanted you in my bed. Now, I'm not going to lie to you and say that I'm not interested in that sort of thing, but at the same time . . . I've waited this long; I can wait until you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready?" she whispered.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. It's not a problem today, and it won't be a problem tomorrow, or any time in the near future, so don't make yourself miserable worrying about it."

"My monthly still hasn't come," she said even more quietly.

He took her hand in his again, holding it tightly. "If it doesn't come, it doesn't come; there's nothing we can do about it one way or the other. But, like I told you before, your child is _my_ child. We married soon enough after that people won't doubt it's mine if I claim it. And when I've walked the floors with it in the dead of night, and wiped its runny nose when it's sick, and taught it to speak and walk and hold a sword, it _will_ be my child and I'll kill anyone who says otherwise."

Amichen stared at him in amazement. "But . . . why?"

"Because I love you and I will love your child because it is yours. And because I would never want to do anything to compound the pain you've suffered." He leaned down and kissed her hand. "I vowed to take care of you and any children you have. Your priest didn't ask me to promise to take care of _my_ children; he said _your_ children. I knew what that meant when I agreed to it.

"So quit worrying your life away. If we have a baby, we have a baby. If it takes you some time to be comfortable being touched by me, then it takes some time. Quit worrying about the future and things you can't change." He looked up at her seriously. "I miss your smile. I miss your company. I miss your thousands of questions and infinite curiosity. Come back to me."

Amichen began to cry again. She slipped out of the chair and knelt on the floor beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He held her tightly with his one arm. "Get it all out," he gently encouraged. "Get it all out so there won't be any more tears. I only want you to be happy from now on."

His sweetness only made her cry harder. But it did feel like she was purging that horrible gray fog from her body—that it was flowing out in her tears. She could only hope that she really had gotten it all out; it seemed to be the sort of thing to return and multiply, given half a chance.

When she was left with nothing but hiccups, Naissus pulled her away from his wet shoulder. He pulled a handkerchief from his belt pouch and wiped her face and runny nose. Then he kissed her softly, like he did their first night together.

"Naissus, I do love you," she whispered against his lips.

He kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. "And I love you—for the rest of my life. There will never be another for me."

"Shh, don't say that," Amichen said, feeling a sudden cold chill, as if he was ill-wishing himself. "You will outlive me, and—"

"I will love no one else but you for the rest of my life," he repeated more firmly, as if making a solemn vow. "I know now that you are my destiny, so it doesn't matter if we can never physically consummate our relationship. My heart is yours regardless."

She laid her head on his shoulder again. "I feel even less worthy of you now," she said with a sniff.

"Hush. No more of that," he insisted. "You have done so much for me in the short time we've known each other. You saved my life, then you stood by me when I was in pain and darkness—even when I lashed out against you. I would be a poor husband if I didn't return the favor when you're suffering so much."

Amichen rested against him, just enjoying the comfort of his embrace. Zelda and Link had said that she and Naissus were meant for one another and that if she lived for his sake, she wouldn't regret it.

Now, finally, she was starting to believe them.


	19. Relief

The castle was quieter since all of Naissus' family members had gone back home, save Talent and his family and Naissus' two younger sisters. Amichen missed Yasmina and Renault in particular. Yasi was talkative and just as her mother had described her: bold. And whenever Renault had been there, he had always quietly asked Amichen how she was doing and offered to help her in any way he could. She felt that she could pour her heart out to him and he would understand. And if she asked him to do something, he would move heaven and earth to do it.

But she loved her mother-in-law, too, and Wyliss was becoming a good friend—her personality complimenting Amichen's opposite one rather well. And having the castle a bit quieter and meals more intimate helped Amichen feel a bit more at ease. She slowly reintegrated herself back into the family and spent a lot of time with Naissus every day—mostly accompanying him to his sword practice.

One morning she got up and saw a sight that made her gasp so loudly, it woke Naissus.

"What is it?" he asked, half-rising from the bed.

She suddenly found herself embarrassed to say, even though it was something she had been hoping for.

"My time finally came," she said.

It took him a minute to comprehend. "You mean . . . you're not pregnant?"

"No," she said with relief. Then she sat down on the side of the bed and started to cry.

He got up and went around to her side of the bed. "Ami, are you alright?" he asked seriously.

She nodded. It took her a moment to find her voice. "I'm . . . just so relieved."

"I'm relieved for you; I know this has been laying heavy on your mind for a long time."

She looked up at him. "Are you disappointed?"

"Disappointed? Why should I be?" he asked, surprised.

"You made it sound like you wanted a baby."

"I would like children, yes, but I prefer that you also want them." He stroked her hair. "Someday, hopefully, we'll conceive a child in love and you'll be happy to carry it."

She looked up at him. "Someday . . . I think I _would_ like to have your child."

He smiled brightly, then leaned down to kiss her. "Someday we'll work on that."

He called a maid to draw a bath and deal with the stained bedclothes, then he absented himself. Amichen had just gotten into a hot tub of water for a soak when there was a knock on the door and Queen Maris peeped in. "Do you mind if I come in?" she asked.

Amichen waved her in. "Not at all." Like most noble women, she had grown up with a certain lack of privacy when it came to things like bathing and dressing. She had always had a maid or two attending her during those times, and her mother certainly hadn't thought anything about walking in on her any time, day or night.

Maris came in and took a seat on a stool beside the tub. "Naissus told me . . . I hope you don't mind me knowing," she added, suddenly looking fearful.

"No, I don't mind. I would have told you myself anyway."

"I'm sure this has been a great worry for you; I'm glad you're free of it."

"Me, too," Amichen said emphatically. "I couldn't imagine having to . . ." Her voice trailed off.

The queen patted her hand sympathetically. "I know, darling."

"Naissus has been so good to me through all of this."

The queen smiled, looking proud. "I would expect no less of him."

Amichen glanced at the two maids who were laying out towels and clean clothes for her to wear. "Could you leave us, please?" she asked.

"Certainly, Your Highness," the elder maid said with a curtsey. The younger one mirrored her, then they both left, shutting the door behind them.

"May I be open with you?" Amichen asked Maris.

"Absolutely, darling. Think of me as your mother."

Amichen smiled ruefully. "I think I'll think better of you than that." Then she grew serious. "I . . . um . . . want your advice on something."

"Certainly."

"Something rather . . . um . . . private."

The queen smiled. "Just between you and me. I promise."

Amichen took a deep breath. "Naissus and I haven't . . . fulfilled our marriage."

Maris looked confused. "What do you mean 'fulfilled' it?"

"Consummated it," Amichen said more bluntly.

The queen looked surprised. "Oh."

"It's my fault."

"Darling, it's not your fault."

"Well it's certainly not Naissus'."

Maris shook her head. "No, I mean it's not your fault because of what happened to you . . . I assume that's the problem?" she asked.

Amichen nodded a little.

"And you're worried about it?"

Amichen nodded again.

"Don't be," the queen said firmly. "I'm not at all surprised that you would be . . . shy after what happened; it's to be expected, I think."

"I'm afraid I'm not a very good wife."

Maris smiled kindly. "I think you are a _very_ good wife, Amichen. I don't know what Naissus would have done without you . . . Followed his cousins to the grave, I'd guess. They were as close as brothers; to lose them all at once . . . I'm frankly surprised he's managed to pull through, especially as well as he has. Even his handicap doesn't seem to bother him."

"Only when he tries to fight," Amichen amended. "He's still very frustrated by that."

"He'll get better," the queen said with confidence. "The point is he's at least trying; I don't think he would even do that if he didn't have you to comfort him and be his friend."

"A friend and a wife are two different things," Amichen said.

"Yes, but it's best when one person is both," Maris replied with a smile. Then she patted Amichen's hand again. "Don't worry about it. Things will happen naturally. Imagine if this had been a true arranged marriage; you both might have wanted to take some time to get to know one another first. This is no different; you're learning to be comfortable with one another. He already trusts you and I think you have a lot of trust in him, too. So you don't have too far to go."

She smiled, then stood up. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Yes," Amichen said, her stomach replying with a sudden growl. It was an odd sensation; she had been picking at her food for weeks, never feeling hungry or wanting much to eat. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be hungry.

"Shall I have some brought up for you?"

"No, I'll be down to breakfast in a little while."

Maris smiled again. "We'll see you then," she said, before exiting the room.


	20. A Piece of the Action

With constant worry off her mind, Amichen's appetite returned with a vengeance and she easily ate even Talent under the table. But no one seemed offended by their gluttonous in-law; in fact, Queen Maris happily called for more food and pressed it on Amichen until she finally sat back in her chair with an uncomfortable sigh.

"I'm stuffed."

"Save your strength; lunch is in a few hours," Naissus said, his eye glinting wickedly.

She punched him lightly in the arm, making him laugh.

A moment later, there was a hasty knock on the door.

"Enter," the king called out, but it was too late; someone was already hurrying in.

The man hurried up between the tables and stopped in front of the king with a hasty bow. "Good news, sire," he said breathlessly. "I have just received word from Shi-Ha; the queen is in possession of one of the bandits. He was found with a number of marked coins in his possession—nothing but marked coins, in fact. So there can be no doubt of his identity.

There was a general whoop of triumph around the table.

"The queen is having him questioned now," the messenger continued when the noise died down. She promises to have information out of him soon."

"We won't have to wait long," Amichen whispered to Naissus. Her mother's spymasters were legendary torturers. People got their children to bed by threatening to send for the spymasters. Rumors of what they did grew taller by the telling. Even Amichen didn't know what tortures they really performed—and she had never cared to find out. But she felt no sympathy for the man held in the dungeons far below the castle in Shi-Ha. He would never violate another girl again; her mother would make sure of that.

But Amichen was wrong about how long it would take. Nearly a week passed before the messenger came into the living room one evening after dinner and announced that the queen of Shi-Ha had succeeded in getting everything possible out of the bandit.

"They have names, Your Majesty," the courier said. "They know who the ringleader is and all the participants. The man didn't know where they were at the moment, though, as they parted ways when they left Erenrue and haven't contacted each other since. But he said there was a little village deep in the Southern Forest where they had lived while operating as highway men. Some of them could be living there now."

The king rose to his feet. "We must move on it, and quickly—before they discover that we have an informant."

"The Queen of Shi-Ha says that she would like to coordinate an attack with you, if you think it feasible. We're closer and our forces can get there sooner, but she could come in from the east with her forces to prevent anyone from escaping that direction."

The king nodded. "We will do that. And I will have the King of Erenrue do the same, coming from the north so that they are trapped. Then we will comb through those forests until we've rooted out every last one of them.

"But we must keep the coins a secret. There may be more conspirators who are hiding in plain sight in our kingdoms. But they will spend that money sometime and then we'll catch them in our net, too."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The king and Talent headed to the war room with their advisors to begin planning their assault on the uninhabited (or so they had thought) Southern Forest. Naissus followed them and Amichen followed him—partly because she wanted to be with him, and partly because she wanted to see the big maps of the world that were in the war room and watch how a battle was planned. Oddly enough, Wyliss followed both of them. Apparently half the royal family was interested in what was going to happen.

Talent searched through a case full of scrolls for a few minutes before pulling out a large one. He opened it up and spread it over the table and some of the advisors placed weights on the corners to keep it from rolling up again.

Amichen was looking at it upside down, but she could still recognize Castle Town on one side of the map and the Eastern Highway that ran to Shi-Ha. The Lost Woods were shown, as was the great forest south of the road. Amichen could see that most of the land there was covered in forest—which was probably the reason why it had never been developed. Why hack homes and farms out of the forest when there was plenty of good farmland in Hyrule, even richer pockets of it in Shi-Ha—where the monsoons washed the minerals off the mesas and into the soil—and vast swaths of grassland in Erenrue that was perfectly suited to grazing animals?

Talent and the king studied the map silently for several minutes. Then the king went to a shelf and took down blocks painted to represent the troops of all three kingdoms. He placed a red block in Shi-Ha, a white block in Erenrue, and a blue block in Hyrule.

"Erenrue and Shi-Ha will need a week and a half's lead time to march troops to the border of the forest," he said, slowly pushing the blocks into place.

"We could arrange to teleport their forces there instead," Talent suggested.

"That leaves them without horses. Think how long it will take them to search on foot," the king said, gesturing to the large tract of land. It was only slightly smaller than Shi-Ha, so searching it would be the equivalent of searching an entire small kingdom.

"We're less than a day away," Talent replied. "It will surely take at least a day for the others to equip and assemble their forces. We could take all the horses we can muster or conscript and ride there. Then we could give our spare horses to the other armies so that at least their commanders can ride."

He spread his hands. "I think the element of surprise would be better to have than the horses. If the bandits catch wind that three armies are marching towards them, they will go to ground. But if we suddenly muster on their border, they will have nowhere to go and little time to hide or prepare any sort of fortifications or defense against us. We know they can set up a well-planned ambush."

"Can they not escape by sea?" Amichen asked, pointing to the bottom of the map.

"No," Talent replied. His finger traced the southern coastline. "This is one long, continuous cliff, some sixty feet high. Below, there is no shoreline and no natural harbors, so there's no place to anchor a boat or beach one, even if you could climb down."

Talent pointed to the boundary between the forest and the Great Southern Desert. "Now, they can get out that way. I wouldn't go into the desert willingly, but if I was being hunted, I would definitely pack some supplies and try to make a run for it."

"Queen Xiao-Lin will have to make sure she creates a picket line along the edge of the desert to make sure no one escapes that way," the king said.

"We will have to do the same on our side," Talent said, pointing to the boundary between the forest and the Great Plain of Hyrule.

The king nodded. "And Ricard can take this northern edge," he said, tracing along the road which ran parallel to the top of forest. "That will keep anyone from escaping while we go in with our best troops and root the rats out."

"I think Talent is right about moving in fast and not bothering with horses," Naissus said, studying the map seriously. "I mean, there's hardly any clear space in there so it's not like you can move very fast or stay in a tight cavalry formation. And if there's a lot of undergrowth or the trees are close together, it will make riding impossible anyway."

Talent tapped the map where there was a clearing. "We don't even know that these clear places are still there; this map is over fifty years old; they may have grown up. So it could be even worse than it looks."

"That's true," the king conceded.

"Also consider that half or more of our troops are going to be stationary because they'll be on the picket line, so they won't need horses," Naissus added.

The king nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're both right. I'll contact Xiao-Lin and Ricard about the plan. If they're agreeable, then we'll make arrangements to teleport them in as soon as we get into place."

"What keeps the bandits from teleporting out once they realize you're there?" Amichen asked.

"We have magicians for that, Your Highness," one of the advisors said. "We can put a spell over this entire area that will negate their ability to teleport or communicate telepathically. It's like throwing a net over the land and trapping everything within it. Then we just wade in and take whatever we find ensnared."

"What about all of our forces? I mean, does this 'net' affect them, too?"

"Yes," the advisor admitted. "But the magicians can move in with our troops and create localized, temporary exceptions to the spell—like cutting a little hole in the net—and we can use that to bring in more people or evacuate.

"The only thing the spell won't do is stop people from shifting," he warned. "That's a different trait altogether—internal, rather than external. It's possible to put a spell on an individual person to keep them from shifting, but there is no spell that can blanket an entire area and prevent everyone within it from changing."

The king and Talent began to discuss how many men they thought were needed on the picket line versus how many they needed to send in to do a thorough search. Another ambush was a serious concern for those going in.

Amichen looked at Naissus. "What's your animal form?" she whispered.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" she asked, surprised.

"The vast majority of people don't know. They say you have to know what your animal form is before you can transform into it."

"That seems like a contradiction. If you don't transform, how can you figure out what it is?"

"Something will trigger it—some situation where you just happen to want to be what your form is."

She looked at him skeptically, but he just shrugged. "That's why a lot of people don't know what their form is. And most people would rather not know, since it's usually a stressful situation that brings it out."

"So, who's going to be in charge of these units?" the king asked, bringing Naissus and Amichen back to the general conversation.

"Reni and Laertes have already told me they want to go," Talent said. "And of course I will go."

"Now, Talent—" the king started to argue.

"I'm going, too," Naissus interrupted.

The king looked shocked. "Now, wait a minute. I can't have _all_ of my sons go. This is even more dangerous than before."

"I think I've earned the right to go," Naissus argued. "This concerns me more than anyone else."

"And me," Amichen said, suddenly speaking up. "I will go with Naissus."

It was Naissus' turn to look stunned. "What? No."

"Yes."

"I'm not taking you back into danger."

"If you've earned the right to go, then so have I. Besides, I'm the only one who got a good look at most of them; I can tell you whether you've got the right men or not." Amichen had no intention of letting the bandit leader hide or escape; she wanted to see his head on the executioner's block most of all.

"I'm going, too," Wyliss said, jumping on the bandwagon.

"Wyliss . . ." Talent started to cajole, like Naissus.

The king threw up his hands. "Why don't we just take the entire family! We can make a picnic of it!" he said sarcastically.

It took nearly an hour, and Renault and Laertes—who had gone home with their families after the wedding—even teleported in to argue, but, finally, the king, Naissus, and Talent all admitted defeat. All of the princes and Amichen and Wyliss would go with the army.

"The four of you are not to go into the Southern Lands together," the king said firmly. "You are not to camp together. Each of you will move with a different unit. If you get into trouble, don't call your brothers in to help you—anyone else, but not your brothers. I don't want any situation where those bastards can take out all of my boys, like they did my nephews."

"Fair enough," Talent agreed.

The king pointed to Naissus. "And you don't go in with the first wave; you can come in only after an area has been secured."

"Father . . ." Naissus started to argue.

"Don't 'Father' me," the king snapped, uncharacteristically short-tempered.

"I've been retraining," Naissus continued, undeterred, "and I'm much improved. I will never be able to carry a shield, but if I'm fighting from horseback I won't have one anyway. I can ride with my left hand and fight with my right hand; I'm almost as good with it as I was with my left."

"Nevertheless, you will not go in with the first wave."

"Father, really—"

"That's my final offer," the king interrupted. "Either you take that or you don't go at all. We nearly lost both of you before," he said, looking between Naissus and Amichen; "we don't want to tempt Fate a second time."

Naissus glanced at Amichen. "I'm going where you go," she vowed.

"Then I suppose we better stay back," he reluctantly agreed, making it sound as if he was doing it for Amichen's benefit rather than at his father's command.

"And you will follow behind, too," Talent told Wyliss.

"I'm going with you. The whole point of me going at all is to be with you."

"You're with me all the time at home!"

"And I will be with you this time, too."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this now? You haven't come with me before."

"I've never felt the need to go with you before. This time I do."

He frowned. "I will ride ahead with my unit and clear the way; you can follow with a secondary unit at a reasonable distance. We can camp together in the evenings."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her. "That's the most I'm willing to do. You don't have any military training; you shouldn't be on the front lines. You'd be no help at all in a best case scenario and a hindrance in the worst."

"Alright," she finally—reluctantly—agreed.

"Such stubborn children," the king said gruffly, but with a note of pride. "Such stubborn daughters-in-law."

Renault laughed. "They _have_ to be pretty stubborn to put up with us."

The king made arrangements with Amichen's mother and the king of Erenrue. The Hyrulian force would leave the next morning, at dawn, with the Shi-Ha and Erenrue ambassadors. Once they arrived at the western edge of the Southern Forest, the ambassadors would begin bringing in others, who would bring in troops. Then each army would take their place and, hopefully, by the following morning, the area would be contained and they would start to move troops in to sweep for the bandits.

That night, Naissus and Amichen lay together in bed—her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

"Are you not afraid of going back to the forest?" Naissus asked her.

"No," she said, a little surprised at herself. It seemed natural that she would be afraid of going back to the scene of their attack, but for some reason it didn't bother her.

"Maybe that's a sign that all will be well," she said.

"Maybe," he said skeptically.

"Do you not believe that people can have a foretelling or foresight?"

"I certainly believe they can."

"Well, maybe I'm having one now; maybe the fact that I'm not scared when I ought to be is a good foretelling."

"But Wyliss has had a bad one."

She looked up at him. "She did? Did she feel anything in particular?"

"I don't know; I didn't ask her. But the fact that she suddenly feels the need to go with Talent—the fact that she argued to go with a . . . a sort of desperation—that worries me."

"So something will happen to Talent, but not to us?"

"We're not going to be at the front; he is. Who do you think is more likely to get hurt?"

Amichen frowned, chewing on her bottom lip with worry. "Then he shouldn't go," she said. "Your father and mother would both feel better if he didn't go anyway."

"No one will stop him from going, short of knocking him out."

"You father could order him to stay behind—order him as his king."

Naissus shook his head. "Father won't do that. I don't think he has it within him to impose his will on any of us that strictly, and besides, this is a military matter and either he or Talent needs to be in the lead. And if Wyliss said that she felt there would be trouble, Talent would go in father's stead no matter what he commanded."

"I'm not brave enough to disobey my mother like that," Amichen said.

Naissus chuckled. "You don't have to worry about that anymore; Father and Talent and I are the only ones you have to obey now. And you've surely figured out by now that we're all pushovers."

"There is a difference between pleading for something and defying a direct order from the king," Amichen pointed out.

"Very true. But Talent knows his duty as a knight and as a son. He will do his duty even if Father orders him not to."

"But . . . isn't his duty to obey his king?"

"His duty is to do what's right," Naissus gently corrected. "The king is not always right."

She shook her head. "How can you have anyone questioning the correctness of the king?"

"Oh, it's not something you do lightly."

Amichen remembered when, after the funeral for their friends, Talent had argued with his mother and father both about being allowed to hunt for the bandits. His father had threatened to order him—as his king—to stay behind, but Talent had asked him not to do so because he felt that staying behind would cause him dishonor.

"No one would ever question my mother and live," Amichen said. "I'd certainly be afraid to do it."

"Yes, well, we've discussed the fact that your family is radically different from mine," Naissus said with a smile.

"But, it's still weird, I think, that anyone could question the monarch."

"Oh, no one else would dare do it, I assure you. We only get away with it because we're his children and we know the right things to say and the right emotions to play on to get him to yield," he said with a laugh.

"I can't believe you admitted doing that to your father and king," Amichen said, half-amused, but half-scandalized as well.

"Yeah, well . . . he lets us," Naissus said with an unrepentant shrug. "He loves all of us and gods know we love him, too, to the depths of our very souls. I guess it all works out because of that."

Amichen thought about Naissus' confession of lasting love for her. Did he find it easy to love because he had been raised with it all around him? Was it easy for him to not expect anything from her because he was used to self-sacrificing for his family out of love?


	21. A Bad Omen

The next morning, Amichen was woken by Naissus. "Time to get up," he said quietly.

She cracked open an eye to see a solitary candle on the nightstand. Naissus was already out of bed and in the process of getting dressed. Before Amichen could blink the sleep out of her eyes, he tossed some clothes on top of the bed.

"For you," he said.

She pushed herself upright and looked at the clothes lying across her legs. "Your clothes?" she asked, confused.

"Would you rather go out in a dress?" he asked, perking a brow.

If he wanted her to wear his clothes, she wouldn't argue with him. Her mother—and even Tiger-Lin—usually wore men's clothing when they practiced their swordplay or went riding. And hadn't she just read about Zelda wearing men's clothes while she had been on her quest? In Amichen's mind, wearing pants was a sign of a powerful woman, and if someone said she could wear them, well, she wasn't adverse to that.

She found Naissus' clothes loose and comfortable, although it felt a bit strange to wear them—but good at the same time.

"Let's see about some shoes for you," he said, pulling a pair of boots out of his closet. But they were too big for her feet. He called in a servant and sent him in search of a smaller pair of riding boots.

"We need to make sure you have some riding clothes and boots made if you decide you like to do this sort of thing," Naissus said.

"I do."

He laughed. "We haven't even made it out of the castle yet. You may find that reality isn't nearly so pleasant."

The servant came back in with several pairs of boots in his arms and another servant tagging along behind him with another few pairs.

The man knelt in the floor, helping Amichen try on boots until they found a pair that fit.

"Whose boots are those?" Naissus asked, as he watched the servant lace them up for Amichen.

The man looked up him, slightly panic-stricken. "Um . . . I'm not sure, Highness." He turned to his companion, but that man just shook his head.

"Were you not paying attention to which boots we took from which room?" the first man hissed.

"I thought you were."

Amichen had to suppress a laugh.

"Well, when you get it figured out, can you tell my mother to have some more boots made to that size? Amichen needs some riding boots of her own."

"Yes, Your Highness. My apologies."

As soon as they were ready, Naissus and Amichen went downstairs. The big front doors were thrown open to the cool morning air. There was only a little spot of green on the eastern horizon.

Outside, the courtyard was full of men and horses and stableboys and servants. Most of the men were lightly armored, wearing maile shirts or lightweight jacks with thin plates sewn into them. Many were bareheaded, although a few were wearing mail coifs or metal kettle hats.

The queen and the princesses were standing on the landing, holding trays of food.

"Who else hasn't eaten anything?" the queen shouted over the assembly. A few more men came over to get something.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, Highnesses," each man said with a bow.

"Have anything left for us, Mother?" Naissus said, coming up behind her.

She turned around. "I always have something for my youngest son—even if he is late."

"We're not late; no one's left yet." He took food from her tray. "Besides, we would have been earlier if we weren't trying to find Amichen some riding boots."

"Oh, I hadn't even thought about that." She turned to her daughter-in-law. "Did you find some, dear?"

"Yes, thank you," Amichen said, showing her the boots she was wearing.

"Although we don't know whose boots they are," Naissus continued. "Apparently the servants just took them out of people's closets without noting which shoes belonged to whom."

"We'll sort it out later; don't worry about it." Maris offered the tray to Amichen. "Get something for your breakfast, dear. It will be a long ride and I doubt anyone will stop for lunch. In fact, you better take two."

Amichen took two of the large pastries from the tray and Naissus took an extra. "Let me see where our horses are," he told Amichen. "Hold that for me," he said, passing her his spare pastry.

"Ask Talent," his mother said, nodding to indicate Talent's general direction.

Amichen took a bite of the pastry and found it was filled with sweet-spiced meat and vegetables. It was a hearty start to the day.

A few minutes later, Naissus came back to the steps leading a horse. A stableboy trailed behind him, leading another one.

"This is the best we can do," Naissus told Amichen. "It belongs to Tosh, so it's a good horse, but it's not as docile as the one I had for you before. But we'll be moving in a group, so it shouldn't matter; it should follow all the other horses."

"If you think it's safe, then I'll ride it," Amichen said. Her experience on the road had made her much more confident as a rider.

"He's safe. And I'll be beside you the entire time. If you get into trouble, I'll get you out of it."

The queen handed her tray to one of the other women and then opened her arms to Amichen. "Come, give me a kiss."

Amichen smiled and went to her mother-in-law. Maris enfolded Amichen in her arms, then kissed her on both cheeks. "Be careful, darling. Make sure you don't go anywhere without the men."

"I won't," Amichen promised. She had no desire whatsoever to go anywhere outside the palace walls without an escort—preferably a large one.

"And take care of Wyliss, if you can. When her blood is up, she can be quite reckless."

Amichen chuckled. "I'll try. But I'm not sure if someone from Shi-Ha can ever rein in someone from Erenrue."

"Are you saying we're stubborn?"

"No, Your Majesty. I said that I'm not sure my people are a match for yours."

"A rare admission indeed," the queen said with a smile. Then she kissed Amichen again. "I knew there was a reason why I loved you from the very beginning."

Naissus came forward for his mother's kiss a moment later. "May the gods be with you both," the queen said, blessing them.

A horn sounded and all around the courtyard, men began to mount up.

Naissus tucked their spare pastries into his saddlebag, then helped Amichen onto her horse. He got onto his horse, too, and pulled up beside hers. "We'll ride at the front with Talent and the others," he told her.

They walked their horses towards the gate and found Talent, Wyliss, Renault, and Laertes already in position.

"Where are my scouts?" Talent called out, standing up in his stirrups so he could see over the churning mass of men.

Half a dozen men moved forward. "We're here, Your Highness," one of them said. "Ready when you give the word."

"It is given."

The men pushed out past the others, then trotted out of the gate. Amichen could hear the horses' hooves ringing against the cobbles in the silent city as they broke into a canter.

"And my magicians?" Talent called out again.

"Here, Your Highness," said a man almost directly behind him.

Talent turned around in his saddle. "Oh, there you are. You four ride in front with us. We will need your skills as soon as we arrive."

"Yes, Your Highness. Although, may I warn you, once we arrive, we will need about half an hour to set up and cast the spell. It's no small undertaking."

"I understand. And I will be impressed if you can do it in half an hour. But you need not worry; we'll keep you safe while you do your work."

"We have every confidence in your force, Your Highness."

Talent took a look around the courtyard again. "Everyone ready?"

There were some nods and responses in the affirmative and none to the negative, so Talent raised his arm. "Forward!"

From somewhere, a horn blew and everyone moved their horses forward. Once they were clear of the castle gate, they kicked their horses into a canter. The guard at the city gate had the doors thrown wide open, so there was nothing standing in their way. They loped out of the city and onto the road that took them across the Great Plain. The sky ahead of them was rapidly turning pink.

Amichen felt a thrill as she rode out in close formation with all the princes and knights of Hyrule. She had never been on such an expedition—had never even been _considered_ for going—and it was easy for her to forget that they were riding into danger. But the men around her hadn't forgotten; they were all grim-faced and determined.

But her initial enthusiasm waned somewhat as the morning dragged on. The rising sun shone directly in their faces and made the early summer day feel even hotter than it was. They kept up a steady pace, too, only occasionally breaking from their slow lope and never stopping completely. Amichen found that, despite her couple of weeks of practice riding, her legs were becoming sore. Apparently spending most of her days in the saddle at a walk with breaks whenever she wanted was not the same as spending a day in the saddle at a canter with no breaks.

It was mid-morning—or a little later—when Talent finally called a halt next to a little creek that more closely resembled a ditch than a proper body of water.

"Let's water our horses here and take a little break. We have half an hour," Talent announced.

Everyone dismounted; Amichen was glad to hear more than one person groan and complain when he got down; it wasn't just her who was sore.

Wyliss tossed her reins to squire who ran up to take care of the royal horses, then she grabbed Amichen by the elbow, whispering in her ear, "My bladder is about to burst."

"I need to relieve myself, too," Amichen agreed.

"Come on. Let's go find a place."

Wyliss and Amichen walked downstream fifty yards or so and found a place where the grass was high enough to conceal them from the men.

"I don't think Talent would have stopped at all if I hadn't complained," Wyliss spoke to Amichen through a screen of grass while they relieved themselves. "I told him we either stop or I was going to stop by myself and I'd catch back up later. He's such a slave-driver when he's serious about something. He'll work until he collapses. But it's not good for morale to make all of your men do the same. And it's definitely not good for your relationship with your wife."

Amichen chuckled.

A moment later, though, they were interrupted by the sound of grass rustling—even though there was no measurable wind.

"Did you hear that?" Wyliss whispered.

"Yes."

The grass rustled again and there was an animal grunt, followed by chewing sounds.

Amichen could just see Wyliss slowly pull out the short sword that she was wearing. Amichen suddenly wished she had asked Naissus for one, too. Even if she wasn't good with a sword, she still liked the idea of having it between her and whatever was steadily munching its way towards them.

Wyliss and Amichen both slowly pulled up their pants and peeped over the top of the grass.

"What the hell is _that_?" Wyliss whispered as she stared at the rough gray back of the huge beast that was only ten or fifteen yards away.

"It's a rhinoceros," Amichen whispered back. "There are some in Shi-Ha, but I had no idea they were this far west."

"I've never seen one before—or even _heard_ about one."

"They're very, very dangerous—especially the bulls. Very aggressive."

"Let's back up—very slowly."

They began to slowly step back. Amichen hunkered down a little, trying to make herself less obvious. Wyliss did the same thing.

And then the beast suddenly lifted its head, pausing in its chewing, and looked at them with its beady little eyes.

"Stop!" Amichen hissed. She and Wyliss both stayed still. So did the rhino.

Then the wind kicked up, blowing from behind them towards the rhino. It lifted its snout, sniffing the air.

From farther behind them, there was a shout among the men.

"Talent's coming," Wyliss said.

The rhino lowered its head, but it didn't go back to grazing.

"He won't be fast enough," Amichen said. She knew the rhino was preparing to charge.

"Do we run for it?"

Amichen hurriedly considered their options. Wyliss could teleport to safety, but she couldn't. Together, they had a chance of confusing and distracting the beast. Alone, though, Amichen would be its only target. And she knew she had no hope of outrunning it.

"You run for it," Amichen quickly decided.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"You run for it; it will chase you," Amichen continued. "Then, when it's close, you can teleport to safety. The men will get to it before it can come back for me."

Wyliss apparently saw the wisdom in Amichen's plan. "Right."

"Now!" Amichen shouted, ducking down, beneath the top of the grass. Wyliss wheeled around and began running for her life back towards the men.

Amichen could feel the ground vibrate as the rhino went charging past, intent on running Wyliss down.

She stood up and watched as it quickly gained ground on Wyliss. It was going to overtake her before Talent and his men could.

"Teleport! Teleport!" Amichen screamed at Wyliss.

She was afraid Wyliss hadn't heard, but after a few moments, Wyliss blinked out of existence. The rhino pulled up, looking confused. But within moments, it was surrounded by men on horseback with spears. The men rode around it in a circle and the rhino had trouble tracking just one of them, which made it confused. It began to bellow in anger and frustration.

A minute later, Naissus came galloping up. He grabbed Amichen by the arm and jerked her up so that she was behind him before she knew it. Then he raced his horse back towards the main force while additional men galloped forward to help deal with the rhino.

As soon as they were back to the road, Wyliss ran up to them. "Oh, Amichen, I didn't want to leave you behind!"

"You did the right thing. I knew if you ran, it would chase you and leave me alone. I was only afraid that you might not teleport in time."

There was a cry of men and the almost-human scream of a horse. They all turned around to see the rhino goring a horse. The other men were on it in an instant, stabbing it with their spears, but the horse and its rider went down and were lost from sight under the rhino.

"To His Highness! To the Prince!" came shouts from the men trying to fight against the animal.

"Oh, gods, Talent," Wyliss gasped. Then she was running towards the fray—even as the rest of the troops galloped in to help.

Amichen jumped off the back of Naissus' horse and ran after Wyliss. She wasn't very athletic, but she was half the other woman's age and Wyliss was still a bit winded from running away from the rhino. Amichen caught up to her and tackled her to the ground.

"Wyliss, no!" Amichen shouted, as they tumbled to the earth.

Wyliss was crying hysterically. "Talent's hurt. I have to go to him! I knew something awful was going to happen!"

"Wait until they kill it. You'll just be in their way and likely to get hurt if you run in right now."

Amichen kept her arms wrapped tightly around Wyliss, holding her immobile while the other woman sobbed. Amichen tried to see what was happening, but there were so many men engaged now, she could no longer see the beast. The only possible thing to be thankful for was that Naissus was in the outer ring of knights, so he was likely safe from the rampaging animal.

Time seemed to move insufferably slow. It seemed that days passed before Naissus turned back to the few non-combatants left on the road. "Master Graydon, we need help," he called, gesturing for one of the magicians to come in.

That was the only signal that Wyliss needed. She wrenched herself free from Amichen's grasp and ran across the plain, towards the circle of men who were only slowly breaking up.

Amichen got to her feet and followed almost as quickly. She had to push her way through the cluster of soldiers, but she finally found the center of the group. The rhinoceros was lying on its side with several broken spears sticking out of its tough hide and many bleeding cuts and puncture wounds. But most of its blood was pouring out of a gash someone had managed to cut in the lower part of its neck. It was still thrashing, but it was clear that it was only a matter of minutes before it died.

To one side, Talent's horse lay on the ground with a deep hole in its belly that was still spilling blood, turning the green summer grass red. Talent was propped up against it, holding his hand tightly on his right thigh where his blood was running down to join that of his horse's.

A knight was kneeling beside him and Wyliss knelt at his other side, taking his hand tightly in hers.

"How bad is it, Your Highness?" the knight asked.

Talent pulled his hand away for a second and a spray of blood shot up into the air, causing men all around him to shout in alarm.

The knight stripped off his maile shirt, then pulled off his lightly-padded gambeson. "Here, Your Highness, let's use this."

As quickly as possible, Talent removed his hand and the knight pressed his gambeson to the wound. Then he leaned on it, pressing down so hard he made Talent scream.

"Where's that damn doctor?" the knight yelled.

A moment later, Master Graydon pushed his way through the men who were worriedly watching their prince bleed out.

"It hit an artery," the knight explained to the magician.

Graydon paled. "He'll need a physician."

"I thought you were one?" the man said, sounding outraged.

"No, I have only a little medical skill."

Talent half-smiled. "We didn't bring any physicians with us."

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but that was a stupid," the man snapped.

"Right now, I have to agree with you."

"I can put a tourniquet on him, which should stop the bleeding long enough for a physician to take care of him," Graydon offered.

"Do it," Talent said.

"I need a belt."

Half a dozen men hurried to strip off their belts. Graydon took the first one offered to him and wrapped it around the top of Talent's thigh and tightened it up until he cried out in pain again.

"Put a belt around that shirt to hold it on," Graydon said, nodding to the knight. Another man stepped forward and tied the belt on while the first knight kept pressure on the wound.

"He's fainting," Amichen warned, watching Talent's face grow more ashen and his eyelids flutter.

Wyliss leaned in and patted his cheeks. "Talent. Talent, stay awake."

Someone passed her a canteen and she splashed some water on his face. That seemed to startle him awake for a moment.

"You need to teleport home, Your Highness, before you lose consciousness," Graydon warned.

He nodded a little. Then, a moment later, he disappeared. Less than a second passed before Wyliss also disappeared, leaving all the men staring silently at the bloody ground where their prince and future king had been only a moment before.

Amichen looked up as Naissus moved to stand beside her. "You were right: she suspected something would happen to him," Amichen whispered to him.

Naissus nodded a little.

"This is a hell of a bad omen," Renault said darkly. "We're not even there yet, and we've already lost Talent."

"Do we go on?" a man asked.

Everyone turned to look at Laertes, who, as the second-eldest son, was the next in line to take command. Amichen didn't know him very well because he was very taciturn—preferring to sit to the side and listen while the rest of the family chatted—but he was big and strong like his older brother and he seemed a good man to carry a heavy burden.

"We must go on," he said in his slow, deep voice. "If the bandits have any spies in Castle Town, then they'll know we've moved out. Maybe the lie that we're out here for military maneuvers will give them pause, but it won't last. If they suspect that we're coming for them, they'll leave before we can trap them."

"How much farther do we have to go before you can cast your spell?" Renault asked Graydon.

"We'll need to be within sight of the forest, at the very least."

Renault nodded. "That's probably an hour away."

"Plus we need at least half an hour to complete the spell," Graydon added.

"Then we need to get moving," Laertes said. Then he looked at Naissus. "Will you take over Talent's unit when we move in?"

Naissus nodded.

"Everyone mount up!" Laertes called out.

Within five minutes, everyone was back on their horses, riding east again. Although Amichen had not felt worried when she decided to go with Naissus, she had a sense of unease now that he was going to be leading one of the units. She hoped that she was just feeling paranoid because of what happened to Talent; she hoped she wasn't getting a premonition instead.


	22. Casting the Net

Shortly before noon, Laertes called a halt; they were on the border of the Southern Forest.

"Time for you to do your part," he told the magicians.

"Yes, Your Highness," they replied. They dismounted and began pulling satchels and bags off their horses, unpacking herbs and small golden and glass instruments. They built a fire beside the road and began setting up their mobile workshop.

"Are we camping here for the night, sire?" one of the knights asked Laertes.

"Some of us will be."

"Do you want the men to go ahead and set up camp?"

"Not just yet. Let the spell take effect first. If anyone is watching us, I don't want them to become too suspicious. We're out here for a military exercise—that's all."

"Should we spend some time drilling?"

"It never hurts." He pointed to the magicians, who were setting a pot over the fire. "Have some men sit here—like we're preparing lunch."

The knight nodded. "Yes, sire."

Amichen ended up sitting with the magicians and a few other knights. She ate her cold pastry and tried to simultaneously watch what the magicians were doing, watch what the knights and squires in the field were doing, and listen to what the men beside her were talking about.

"Do we have any word on Prince Talent?" one of the men asked. His companions shook their heads. "Well," he said, "I suppose no news is good news."

Amichen watched as some of the men fought a melee from horseback, while others fought on foot. Occasionally, one would come over to where she sat and flop down, exhausted or with some body part aching. One of the fresher men would get up and take his place. Amichen emptied her leather bottle giving the men a drink of water and they were quite grateful for it. She liked the way the Hyrulian Knights spoke to her—as if each of them adored her. It was very different from the noblemen and knights of Shi-Ha, who either ignored her because she was unimportant at court, or stared at her like hungry men who needed her royal status to boost their own standing. For the Knights of Hyrule, she was one of their princesses and therefore deserving of their utter devotion; they expected nothing for themselves.

Naissus rode up after a time, his pale face flushed with exertion and probably the beginnings of a sunburn. Amichen imagined that all of the fair-faced royals must suffer from it every summer.

"How goes it?" he asked the magicians.

"Five more minutes should have it, Your Highness."

"Right on time," he said with an approving nod.

"Have you heard any news from home?" Amichen asked quietly.

"Talent should live."

Amichen breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, I'm so glad."

He nodded. "The physician was able to stitch him up so he won't bleed anymore. He's weak from the blood loss, so he'll be in bed for several days, but the doctor was optimistic."

"Will he be lame in that leg?"

"It's still too early to tell. But Mother said the physician is 'cautiously optimistic' that the wound will heal up well. He may have a bit of a limp, but hopefully nothing debilitating." He sighed heavily. "Gods know one cripple in the family is enough."

"I have never heard of a rhinoceros outside of Shi-Ha before. And they're pretty rare within it."

Naissus shook his head. "I've never heard of one this far west, that's for sure."

"Do you think it's an ill-omen?" she whispered to him, hoping the men nearby couldn't hear.

"Gods, I'm thinking this entire place is an ill-omen," Naissus said, sounding irritable. "Everyone has always said the moors were a cursed land, full of ghosts and demons, but they've always been pleasant whenever I've been there. Here—here is the land that's cursed."

"What can we do?" Amichen asked.

"We will exorcise it with the sweat of our brows and the blood of our hands. We will comb every inch of it and drive out the evil—whether it's man, beast, or demon. That's all we _can_ do."

A moment later, the magicians began to chant over their burbling, smoking pot, and everyone around them fell silent, listening to them make their magic. Their voices grew louder so that even the men who were mock-fighting in the field on the other side of the road stopped what they were doing and grew quiet, watching.

A purple bubble began to rise out of the pot and the chanting—in perfect unison—grew faster. All of the men linked hands, surrounding the bubble, even as it grew larger. Amichen held her breath, waiting for it to burst, but it grew larger and larger until it nearly touched the men surrounding it.

Finally—just when it seemed that the bubble would become solid—it popped and a transparent wave seemed to issue from it, rippling out through the air like water washing up on the beach, and it headed to the southeast, coating the air over the forest like a smear of water on a piece of paper, then it vanished completely.

The magicians broke their circle and staggered away, panting as hard as any of the knights who left the field. "It is done," one of them said wearily.

Naissus turned to the field and whistled a signal and gestured to the forest with his hand.

Laertes addressed the troops. "Those of you who have our border, move out. Those of you who are bringing in others, start. The rest of you, make camp," he said, pointing to the spot he wanted.

Amichen stayed out of the way and watched everything unfold with clockwork precision. A group of squires rode down the border. Every so often, they would stop and teleport in two men from the Hyrulian reserves—men who were neither knights nor squires, but who were trained and drilled on a regular basis and who served as the regular infantry troops whenever the Hyrulian army was called up. Hyrule had no standing army, just knights, those who wanted to be knights, and the reserves. Amichen found the idea of a part-time army very curious, but watching it unfold, it seemed to work.

After every three pairs of men, one squire would stop and make camp while the others rode on until they were out of sight. Starting at dawn, one half of the reserve men would sleep in camp, then halfway through the day, the other half would have a turn. At night, though, when people were most likely to try and slip past, the picket line would be fully-staffed. And they were stationed just inside the magic spell, so if they got into trouble, they didn't have far to go before they could bring in more troops.

Meanwhile, a few key people from Erenrue and Shi-Ha were teleported in. They, in turn, brought in a small group of their own people. They were given Hyrulian horses and they rode off—the Erenrue forces dropping a string of guards behind them as the Hyrulian forces had. The Shi-Ha contingency, however, rode hard for the eastern side of the forest. Once there, they would set up their picket line the same way.

Once the picket line—or, as Amichen thought of it, a fence—was in place, each kingdom would send in several units of select troops to sweep the forest. Naissus told her that wouldn't happen until the following day, or maybe the next, depending on how fast Erenrue and Shi-Ha could get into place, so they would camp out on the edge of the forest until everyone ready to move in.

Naissus helped a couple of squires pitch a tent for his and Amichen's use, then he left to talk to the men who would be in his unit. Amichen decided to build a fire while she waited on him to come back and she gathered the materials she needed from the edge of the forest. Now that she was back in close proximity to the area of the attack, she felt a little unease, but she was surrounded by half the Hyrulian army, so she forced herself to ignore the feeling. If a bandit so much as jumped out and yelled "boo" at her, he would be set upon by at least a dozen knights who had all been spoiling for a fight for hours.

The idea made her smile.

She gathered the necessary materials and returned to the tent. She prepared everything very carefully, conscious that more than a few men were surreptitiously watching her. She may not have been able to fight, but she wanted to demonstrate that she wasn't totally incompetent; she at least wanted to be able to make a fire.

But despite all her preparation, she couldn't get her steel to strike a spark. She struck her flint a couple dozen times, growing more frustrated with each unproductive blow.

"I see marriage has already domesticated you."

Amichen gasped in surprise, looking up. "Mother. What are you doing here?"

"I came to speak to Prince Talent—or whoever is in charge now."

"Laertes."

Amichen's mother squatted down beside the fire pit. "I heard that the prince was injured and had to return home, but there wasn't time to explain what happened," she hinted.

Amichen told her mother what had happened with the rhinoceros.

The queen shook her head. "It's a shame about his leg, but they're very lucky it wasn't his life. I've been on a rhino hunt before. It killed one man and injured two and we lost three horses—and that wasn't counting the three villagers it killed before we went after it. It also killed some dogs and I think something else—an ox or a horse."

"They're hopeful Talent won't be too crippled. He might get away with just a limp."

"That would be good—especially after what happened to Naissus."

Amichen had absent-mindedly tried to get a spark a few more times while she had been talking to her mother. Finally, her mother held her hand out, demanding the flint and steel.

Amichen passed her mother the equipment. With practiced ease, the older woman struck the flint and an orange spark landed on the charcloth on the second try. She placed the cloth in the middle of the fuzzy tinder which Amichen had already shaped into a bird's nest and blew on it. In just a few breaths, the bundle of tinder erupted into flames and she tossed it into the prepared firepit. Then she quickly began adding the kindling that Amichen had ready.

"You didn't have to make it look so easy," Amichen said, half-annoyed, half-impressed.

Her mother chuckled. "It's not my first time to make camp."

"Now who's being domestic?"

Her mother looked at her and smiled. It seemed so genuine, it took Amichen aback. She wasn't used to her mother being happy—at least when there wasn't anything to be gained by appearing to be so.

"So, how is married life treating you?" her mother asked.

"Fine."

"Did I make a good choice?" she asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

"I think we both made a good choice," Amichen corrected.

"Queen Maris informed me that you aren't with child," her mother said bluntly. "That's good news."

 _For me or for you?_ Amichen thought to herself. But she didn't say anything.

"Do you think you'll want to have one with Naissus?" the queen asked.

"Someday," was all Amichen replied.

"Well, it will probably happen soon enough. These Hyrulian royals seem to breed like rabbits."

"Not everyone in the family is from Hyrule," Amichen pointed out. "Wyliss and the queen both are from Ernerue."

"True. But they like fairly large families in Erenrue, too."

"Why do you think so poorly of them for that?"

"I guess because I have better things to do with my time than be abed with a child. It's hard to be both a queen and a mother. There's little time to do both."

Amichen didn't point out that her mother could have had a husband to help her in that regard if she had so chosen.

"But, I suppose you would manage it, if it was necessary," her mother added. "It seems to suit you."

"What suits me? Being domesticated?" Amichen asked, arching a brow.

Her mother laughed and looked at her. "Being normal, Amichen. Being normal suits you. Having a husband, a family, children. . . . Sometimes I even envy you that."

"You envy _me_?" Amichen asked, practically reeling with shock.

"Even I get tired of politics."

"I thought you lived for telling people what to do."

Her mother laughed. "Oh, I'm not saying I could give it up to live a quiet life. No, I was made for this role. But . . . even I get tired of it sometimes."

Amichen considered that for a moment. "Maybe you need to go on a monastic retreat for a little while," she suggested. "All that peace and quiet would surely make you eager to return to the fray."

"Possibly so," her mother said with a smile. Then she touched her daughter under the chin. "You seem like a flower which has finally been planted in the correct soil. I'm glad to see you blooming."

She stood up and started to walk away, just as Naissus came over.

"Majesty," he said, giving her a little bow. She smiled at him a little and bowed her head in acknowledgment, then went on her way without a word.

"What did your mother want?" Naissus asked, coming over to Amichen.

"Just to talk, I think . . . and maybe check on me."

"Was she afraid for you to be here alone?" he asked, sitting beside her on the ground.

"No, I didn't mean that; I meant check on me in general—how well I liked being married, that sort of thing."

"I hope you told her you liked being married; she might hurt me if you told her otherwise."

Amichen laughed. "Maybe," was all she would say. Who knew what her mother would really do? She was being unlike herself lately. It was almost as if, after sixteen years, Amichen was seeing a glimpse of her real mother—not the Queen of Shi-Ha.


	23. Plan of Attack

That evening, Naissus and Amichen shared their fire and dinner with Naissus' two older brothers. Laertes pulled out a scaled-down version of the map they had used in the War Room. Talent had already marked where the units of each army were going to enter the forest and the approximate route they were to take. Everyone was to go all the way to the coast, then turn and move to the center, where everyone would rendezvous. Depending on what they had found—or not found—they would march back out a different way, thus giving the entire area a good combing-over. Maybe an individual would be missed if he was well-hidden, but it would be unlikely that an entire group of people would be. More likely than not, they would flee before the searchers and try to get around them by going to the sides. And then the pickets would have them.

"How long do you think it will take us to get all the way to the coast?" Amichen asked.

"What do you mean 'us'?" Naissus demanded before anyone else could reply.

"Us. Our units."

"Oh, I thought you meant you personally," he said, visibly relaxing.

"Well, yes, since I'm going with you."

"No, you're not."

Amichen was confused. "What do you mean? You said back in the city that I could go with you."

"That's when we were both going to be in the reserves. I'm leading Talent's unit now, so you can't go with me."

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked indignantly.

"Stay here until we get back."

"No."

"Amichen—"

"No," she said, even more forcefully. There was no way she would stay there, on the edge of the forest, by herself. Whatever trouble they might get into in the forest, she preferred to take her chances with Naissus and a bunch of knights around her. If trouble found her here, there would be no rescue.

"We'll leave someone with you," Renault offered, as if he could read her mind. "You won't be here alone."

"No," she said again. One guard was better than nothing, but still not as good as an entire retinue of knights. She had already seen what the bandits could do to a small party of people; she wanted to stay surrounded by an army.

"Would you prefer it if someone took you back home?" Naissus offered hopefully.

"No. Remember, I'm the only one who can identify their leader and some of the others; that's the only way you'll be sure you have the right ones."

"If we capture anyone, we can bring them back to Castle Town and you can identify them there," Naissus pointed out.

Amichen knew she was being irrational. It made no sense whatsoever that she should have ever left the comfort and security of the castle, much less that she should refuse to go back in the face of impending dangers. But it was almost as if a little voice in the back of her head was telling her that she had to go forward. Whatever lay ahead, she had to keep moving forward, not go back.

She was more convinced now than ever that she was getting some sort of premonition. She only hoped it didn't involve Naissus getting hurt.

"You agreed I could come with you. Don't go back on your word."

It was a low blow. And she could see it on Naissus' face as clearly as if she had physically struck him. But she knew before he replied that he would yield. He had to; she had left him no other choice.

"Very well," he said quietly, as if it pained him to agree.

"You can still keep her to the back," Renault pointed out. "Our magicians and physicians won't be in the front, certainly." After Talent's mishap, physicians had been sent for; one would be moving in with each unit to tend any wounded.

"That's fine with me," Amichen hurried to say. She had no desire to be on the front line; she just wanted to stay near Naissus.

"Good," Naissus said, then he went back to eating his dinner, almost petulantly.

Amichen looked at Renault. "So, how long is it going to take us to get to the coast?" she asked, bringing them back to the question which had started the argument initially.

"It depends on how fast we move," Renault replied. "If we don't find much and the terrain isn't too bad, then three days, I think. If there's a lot of undergrowth, though, or we spend a lot of time following trails and probing hiding places—and especially if we find something—then longer."

"What kind of numbers are we potentially looking at on their side?" Naissus asked.

Laertes replied. "The Queen's source indicated that they were a fairy large band—about thirty men. But we have no idea how many of them are in here. Some—maybe even all—of them may have left and scattered throughout the world, as he did."

"How big are our units going to be?" Naissus asked.

"Twelve knights each—plus the commander, of course—half a dozen squires, plus one magician and physician each."

"So, nineteen fighting men," Naissus calculated. "That's not quite two-to-three odds if one of us finds the lot of them. And we're fighting in their territory, so they're in control of the terrain. That makes it much closer to one-to-two odds."

"But they're not trained like we're trained."

"Ask me how much that counted for last time," Naissus said bitterly.

Laertes spread his hands. "We've turned out every knight in Hyrule who is capable of fighting . . . and maybe two or three who aren't, but came anyway."

"Like me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Father doesn't think I can fight anymore."

"I've seen you practicing. No, you're not as good as you used to be, but you're not bad, either."

"You're probably better than Polonius, anyway," Renault said.

Naissus reeled. "Is he here? Really?"

Renault nodded.

"Who is Polonius?" Amichen asked, looking between them.

"An _old_ knight," Naissus replied. "And something of a legend. He was considered the best of the best back in his time. But he's a hundred and fifty, if he's a day."

"One hundred and sixty-three," Laertes said. "He told me so himself yesterday."

"Wow."

"Most knights quit actively training for combat somewhere between seventy-five and a hundred," Renault explained to Amichen. "And usually, by the time they're Polonius' age, they don't even teach anymore, unless it's something non-physical. Training for knighthood, and then keeping up your skills is very hard on your body and joints. Usually arthritis or a joint injury that just won't heal ends a knight's career and, eventually, it will get to the point that he can't even train the students or squires."

"Link was about ninety when he quit training squires himself," Naissus added. "He took an arrow in his shoulder on the field at Erenrue and it became arthritic. They say that towards the end of his life, he couldn't stand to move his shoulder at all and they created a special shirt for him that had no left side so he didn't have to put his arm through a sleeve."

"How did it stay on?" Amichen asked curiously.

"It tied around the waist somehow. I think there's a picture of him as an old man in one of the books in the library." He sighed a little. "I think I may need to adopt it as a fashion."

Naissus had been exercising his left arm, so he had a little more range of motion, but getting dressed was still a bit of a challenge for him—especially if his top was tight-fitting or it had a lot of buttons. Usually Amichen helped him dress.

"You could do worse," Renault said. "Gods know Link looks inspiring in that picture. You'd never think that he was crippled and in constant pain to look at him; he looked like he could take up a sword and hand you an ass-whipping any day of the week. He just looks . . . heroic."

"That may be artistic license," Laertes suggested. But Renault shook his head.

"I don't think so. I don't think you can paint that without actually seeing it. I think he really was like that until the day he died."

"Well, Polonius seems to be cut from the same cloth," Laertes said. "I know Father and several other people tried to talk him out of coming, but he wouldn't hear of it."

"Will he be more hindrance than help?" Naissus asked.

"Not from what I was seeing today when we were practicing," Laertes said. "He's slow, but he's forgotten more about fighting than any of us has ever learned. He has ways of catching you by surprise and that negates your speed. And if he can just bring you down to his speed, he has you."

"Sounds like I might need some lessons from him," Naissus said. "I'm not as fast with my right arm as I was with my left."

"Well, you'll have time to talk to him about it," Laertes said with a smile. "He's in your unit."


	24. Sweeping In

The Shi-Ha troops still weren't completely in place by the next day, and the ones who were—along with the men from Erenrue—needed to get some rest since they had been on the move most or all of the night. So the Hyrule troops stayed in camp and practiced and rested in turn.

There was no news from the pickets, and scouts who were sent into the woods some distance from camp saw no trace of any human activity. Either the bandits were trapped deep inside or no one was home.

The following morning, everyone got up just after dawn, ate quickly, and broke camp. Once everything was packed up, Naissus helped Amichen onto her horse. The physician and the magician were also riding, as was Naissus, but the rest of the men were on foot—with one other exception: Sir Polonius. No one said as much—at least not where Amichen could hear—but she suspected that the older knight might not be up for the marching part of their journey.

"You will ride behind the rest of us with Polonius," Naissus told Amichen. "I'm putting the two of you in charge of our pack horses."

"That seems to be a waste of a knight," she pointed out.

"Unless we get into trouble, at which point I'll be glad to have someone with Sir Polonius' experience to bail us out."

Amichen wondered if the real reason why he was putting Sir Polonius in the back with her was because he wanted her protected, or because he didn't think Polonius good enough to be in the front anymore. Or maybe both.

A moment later, a white-headed man with a neatly-trimmed white beard trotted up beside them. "Your Highness," he said, nodding his head to Naissus.

"Sir Polonius. Nice to see you again."

"Likewise, sire."

Naissus gestured to Amichen. "This is my wife, Princess Amichen. You will be riding with her and guarding our rear."

Polonius moved his horse up beside Amichen's and took her hand in his and bowed low, kissing it. Amichen noticed that he, like Naissus, actually pressed his lips to the back of her hand. She had wondered if that had just been Naissus' way of flirting, but it appeared to be the custom in Hyrule.

"It's very nice to meet you, Your Highness." He looked up at her and smiled. Despite his age, he still had a warm smile that made him look rather handsome. Amichen suspected that he must have won more than a few hearts in his heyday.

"It's nice to meet you as well, sir," Amichen replied.

"The pleasure is all mine." His smile grew wider. "You know, I normally would dislike being off the front line, but I definitely have the better job today."

"Taking care of the pack horses?"

He laughed. "No, Your Highness, keeping you company."

"I am very glad to have your company."

"I will do my best to please."

"Well, Polonius," Naissus interrupted, as he mounted his horse, "if you could take a brief break from flirting shamelessly with my wife, perhaps we could get started on this expedition."

Polonius tried hard to look contrite, but he couldn't quite wipe the smile from his face. "Yes, Your Highness."

"You wouldn't happen to have been related to Duke Rodger?" Amichen asked Polonius quietly, as Naissus went off to the head of the column. There was something about the old knight that reminded her of the young one. Perhaps it was the ready smile and ease of manner. Or maybe it was just the natural inclination to flirt.

"No, Your Highness, I am not noble by birth; I can claim no relation. But I did know the young duke. If I can infer, by your line of questioning, that you think us in some ways alike, then I will very much take that as a compliment. He was a very upstanding and noble young man."

"I thought so."

A couple of squires led the pack horses over and tied them off behind Amichen's and Polonius' horses—two each. Then Naissus gave the signal and their unit crossed the road and entered the forest. All around them, other units—led by the other princes and senior knights—began to move out as well. At first, there was a lot of noise from all the men and horses crashing through the woods, but as the various units began to diverge to follow their own routes, the noise became less and less. After an hour, the only noises Amichen could hear were the sounds of their own men and the birds and rustle of trees.

Throughout the morning, Polonius entertained Amichen with a steady stream of stories and jokes. He had been the bailiff of a county—in charge of keeping the peace and apprehending criminals—for over a century, and he had a seemingly endless supply of stories of funny and downright stupid things he had seen people do over the years. Occasionally, things were serious, but the story always ended with him pulling some spectacular stunt or springing a clever trap to get the bad guy in the end.

The group stopped briefly for an early lunch when they found a creek where they could water the horses.

Naissus looked thoughtfully at the creek for so long, Amichen finally said something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking that if the bandits have built themselves some sort of village, they've probably built it near a source of water," he replied. "I think we should follow this creek and see if anything turns up."

They mounted up again a short time later and followed the creek as it meandered through the woods. Amichen noticed that Naissus sent about half of the foot soldiers out as scouts to look ahead and to either side. Throughout the rest of the day, they came back periodically to report that they had found nothing: no person or road or any other sign of habitation. It seemed as if their tiny band were the only people in the forest.

"Well, we know that's not true," Naissus replied when Amichen said as much. "We have a lot of people in these woods. If we can hide our presence, the bandits can hide theirs, too."

They made camp a little before sunset. Amichen helped Naissus set up their little wedge tent near a central area that a couple of men were clearing so they could build a fire.

Naissus strung a rope tautly between two trees while Amichen cleared a space down to the dirt. Then Naissus put a rectangle of canvas over the rope and staked out the edges. When Amichen looked inside, she saw there was just enough room for her and Naissus to lay side by side. There wasn't even enough room for both of them to sit up in it, unless they sat back to back in the middle.

"It's not as nice as what we had before," Naissus admitted as he hammered in the last stake. "But we couldn't afford to spare the horses necessary for more equipment."

Amichen looked at the other tents that were going up around the campsite. They looked to be a bit wider and longer, but when she counted, there were only six tents, including hers and Naissus'. That meant that everyone else was sleeping four to a tent.

"There," Naissus said, as he finished up. Then he opened the flap on the end and crawled in, spreading out a large wool blanket that would clearly serve as both a ground cloth and a cover. There were no pallets now, much less a rope and feather bed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have cleared out all the leaves," Amichen said, eyeing the thin blanket that would be all that separated them from the hard ground. "They'd at least give some padding."

"It's not much padding if they're mixed with sticks and nuts and pinecones and such," Naissus said, crawling back out. "But if you want to find some leaves to put under the blanket, that's fine with me. I've used them as bedding before."

Amichen set off to find dry leaves while Naissus went to help with supper preparations. Amichen was still working on making a bed nearly an hour later when Naissus called her to supper.

They sat around the small fire and ate and talked, although their conversation was subdued and their voices fairly quiet; it wasn't like the boisterous dinners Amichen had had with Naissus and Rodger and the others. This wasn't a wedding party or a group of friends travelling for fun; every man was aware that this was a military action and that they were well inside enemy territory.

"I want the watch kept in pairs," Naissus said when dinner was winding down. "One person stays here, in camp, and I want the other one walking a perimeter outside of camp. Stay within visual range at all times."

The men nodded and prepared to draw lots to see who would keep the watch first. Naissus tried to take a lot, but he was brushed aside by one of the other knights. "No, Your Highness."

"I will pull my weight," Naissus protested. But the man shook his head.

"No, we will do this. Besides," he added before Naissus could argue again, "we're an even number without you. You wouldn't have a partner if you took a watch."

"I'll help," Amichen volunteered.

"No," Naissus and the knight replied in unison.

Feeling a little aggravated at being dismissed as useless—and, worse, knowing it was true—she picked up a large stick, broke it over her knee and started to put it into the dying fire. But Naissus stopped her.

"No, let it go out."

"Why?" she asked, surprised. The sun had set and it was growing steadily darker. Soon, they wouldn't be able to see anything.

"Because the light will attract attention," he replied.

"A fire can be seen for a long way, Your Highness," another knight said. "Even in a forest."

"Not only that," Naissus added, "but it blinds the people nearest to it so they can't see very far into the dark. They have a better chance of seeing someone approach if there's no light at all."

"Speaking of being really noticeable in the dark," the knight said, gesturing to a tent: "it's a full moon tonight."

Naissus nodded. "We should camouflage them."

Amichen followed Naissus to back to their tent. "What are you going to do?" she asked curiously.

He walked a few paces away, looking at the ground as he went. A moment later, he found what he was looking for and he bent down to pick up a large branch that was lying on the ground. Growing even more curious, Amichen watched as he dragged it over to the tent. But when he struggled to lift it with one arm, she stepped up to help him.

"Just lean it against the rope," he instructed. "As lightly as we can."

It took some maneuvering, but they finally got it into place to Naissus' satisfaction. It wasn't a bare branch at all; it had many smaller branches that were covered with leaves that were still half green. It was almost as wide as the tent was long.

"I still don't understand," Amichen said.

"This white fabric will glow in the moonlight," he said, gesturing to the east, where a silvery disk could just be seen rising behind a screen of green leaves. "If someone gets close enough, they'll be able to see the glow and it will be obvious what's causing it."

"So you're hiding it behind sticks and leaves?"

"Exactly."

They found another branch and propped it up on the other side of the tent just as they were losing the last of their light.

"Hopefully we won't get much wind tonight," Naissus said, kneeling down in front of the tent. He opened the flap, meaning to crawl in, but stopped, feeling around. Then he laughed.

"What?" Amichen asked.

"The tent's half-full of leaves!" he said.

"I wanted a soft bed," she said.

"I'm not sure if we can get in to it," he said, still chuckling.

"They'll squish down."

Naissus managed to crawl in and flatten down the pile a little. Amichen crawled in behind him and flattened down the other side.

"Well, I must admit," Naissus said, wrapping the end of the wool blanket around both of them, "it is sort of comfy. Although a bit loud," he added as the leaves crackled and crunched under them when they shifted to a more comfortable position.

"Do you think someone will hear?" Amichen asked, suddenly worried that the noise of the leaves might give away the position of their camp.

"It's not likely to be louder than everyone snoring," he pointed out. Then he added, "I have been accused of snoring in the past."

"If you do, I haven't noticed."

He chuckled. "Good. I _thought_ Rodger was just making that up to give me a hard time."

His chuckles died away suddenly, then Amichen heard him sigh deeply.

"It doesn't seem right to camp out without them," Amichen whispered.

"I agree. Times like this make me miss them more than ever."

Amichen heard the catch in his voice. She scooted a little closer and he put his arm around her and she rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She could feel him struggling to hold back his tears, but when she put her hand to his cheek, she felt the wetness of tears that had managed to escape.

"They all liked you, you know," he said in a choked voice. "They wanted me to marry you; they wanted you to be part of our circle."

Tears stung Amichen's eyes.

"I think . . . I think they imagined that nothing would change—that even after we got married, we'd still go hunting and travel together—we'd just take our wives and children along with us."

"I would have liked that," Amichen whispered.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Amichen could practically feel him burying his tears deep inside. "I used to say that I liked spending some time alone because there's always someone around when you're a royal and one of ten children," Naissus said after a moment. "But, in truth, since my cousins died, I have felt so very lonely. Even when I'm with you, I feel lonely."

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean that your company is in any way deficient," he hurried to say. "It's just . . . I feel like we're lonely together. Neither of us have friends anymore."

"I'm used to that," Amichen said sadly.

"I'm not. And I don't want to get used to it," he said firmly. "And I don't want you to always be without friends, either."

"I guess we'll need to make some more, then."

They lay quietly for a while. Outside, the insects were making a pleasant mix of chirps and rattles and other indistinct noises. Somewhere nearby, someone was beginning to snore.

"I like Wyliss," Amichen said suddenly. "And Yasi. And I like your brother, Reni."

Naissus chuckled a little. "I like Wyliss, too. She's a hoot. She always says whatever's on her mind. You always know where you stand with her . . . Which can be a double-edged sword. Sometimes, you might _not_ want to know what she thinks of you."

He was silent for a moment, musing. "I never really spent time with my older brothers; they were already at the Academy and busy with training and studying when I was old enough to play; I mainly played with my cousins. I guess I haven't considered the fact that, now that I'm an adult, too, I probably have more in common with them. To begin with, we all have excellent wives."

Amichen laughed. "I agree."


	25. The Village

The next morning, they rose early, had a quick meal, and broke camp.

"I have to admit," Naissus said to Amichen, as he shook leaves off the blanket they had wrapped around them, "your leaves felt pretty close to a real bed. I'm not sore in my hip and shoulder like I usually am when I sleep on the ground."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too. I don't need anything to make my left shoulder worse."

Shortly thereafter, they moved out in the same formation as the day before: Naissus riding at the front, followed by the other knights and squires on foot, with the magician, physician, Amichen and Polonius riding a little behind them with the packhorses. Naissus sent a portion of the foot soldiers out to scout around them.

It wasn't long before one came back reporting that there was a road nearby. Naissus led the group to the place where the scout indicated. It wasn't much of a road—it wasn't paved or even made of compacted earth like the major road that ran between Shi-Ha and Hyrule, but it was clear from the pressed leaf matter and the branches hacked from trees to create a clear area that the path was nevertheless used for wagons and foot traffic.

"Let's see where it goes," Naissus said. Scouts hurried off to see what was ahead, while some flanked out to either side to make sure that there was no ambush waiting to hit them in the flanks.

It was mid-morning when one scout came hurrying back and spoke quietly with Naissus. Naissus called a halt and had everyone present group up.

"What is it?" Amichen asked.

"We've found a village," Naissus replied.

They had to wait about twenty minutes before the last of the scouts returned. After Naissus heard all their reports, he addressed the entire group.

"There's a little village a mile or so down this road with eleven small houses. There appears to be no one there but women and children, but there may be men around—especially if they know or suspect we're coming. They've probably figured out by now that they can't teleport or communicate telepathically, so they should be suspicious."

Naissus looked over his small band. "We have enough knights for each man to take one house and clear it of all its inhabitants." He pointed to three squires. "You three are to take possession of everyone who is sent out of the houses. Make sure they have no weapons on them—search even the women and children—then have them kneel in the center of the village until we have searched every house."

The squires nodded.

Naissus looked at his knights again. "Make sure that you search the houses very well. Make sure there are no attics or cellars or false walls where people can hide."

"What about us, sire?" one of the unselected squires asked.

"I want you three to circle around the village—one to the south, one to the east, and one to the west. Patrol and make sure that no one sneaks up on us while we're busying emptying the village. "

They nodded.

"I don't think I'm in your count," Sir Polonius said as he glanced over everyone present, counting heads.

"No. You will stay with Amichen and the doctor and Master Graydon."

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but you need all the manpower you can get."

"Yes, and I also need you to hold this road for me. I don't want anyone getting in and I especially don't want anyone getting away. If there are others out in the woods, we don't want anyone slipping through to go warn them."

Polonius nodded.

Naissus dismounted. "You three," he said, pointing out the squires he had designated as scouts, "go ahead and get into position. Make sure you aren't seen. I'll give you a twenty minute head start."

They hurried off at a brisk jog.

"Now we wait," Naissus said.

The men spent their time stretching and checking their equipment. A couple even sat down and appeared to meditate.

Amichen got off her horse and she and Naissus walked a little way from the others. "Are you afraid?" she asked him quietly.

He let out a heavy breath, then smiled a little. "I think every man is nervous before battle."

"It might not be a battle; there may only be women and children here."

"True. And they may not give us any problems. But that is its own problem."

"How so?"

"Because there must be men somewhere. You never have a village of women and children but no men. And if all the men have left, it's probably to hunt for us. And the thought of another ambush worries me more than anything."

"If this is a trap, you don't have any reinforcements," Amichen pointed out. "Sir Polonius and three squires aren't enough to help."

"I know." He smiled thinly. "We'll just have to hold our own."

"Can't you bring in reserves from outside?"

"No. It will take too much time for the magician to open a hole for us so we can bring more people in. The longer we're out here, the more likely we are to be found. If this isn't a trap, then the men might be just off hunting and can come back at any moment. If they fortify themselves in their houses, I don't think I have the manpower to dislodge them."

"But if they're already in there, fortified and waiting on you—"

"Then I guess we'll have to retreat," he said.

A moment later one of the knights came over, interrupting them. "I think it's about time, Your Highness."

Naissus nodded, then kissed Amichen. "Get back on your horse and stay with Sir Polonius. If trouble comes, flee. If you keep going north, you'll eventually reach the highway and the picket line."

She started to say something, but suddenly became choked up. He seemed to understand, though, because he took her hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze. "Be careful," he whispered, then kissed her once more.

She let his hand go only reluctantly. "You too."

He smiled at her, then turned and walked back to his men. A minute later, they were moving down the road at a brisk pace.

Sir Polonius came over leading Amichen's horse; Naissus' horse had already been tied off behind Graydon's. "We ought to follow them a little way, Your Highness. We need to make sure that no one tries to escape and the doctor here needs to be close enough to respond if he's called for."

Amichen remembered when Talent had fallen to the rhino. "Yes, let's get a little closer," she said, taking the reins from Polonius.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I think I can manage."

Amichen got onto her horse by herself and felt rather proud. "Lead on, Sir," she said.

Polonius took the four of them to within sight of the little village, then Sir Polonius stopped them. "Here is close enough."

Amichen strained to hear sounds of fighting coming from the village. Although there was the occasional shout, there didn't seem to be any noise of sword-on-sword. But Amichen's human hearing wasn't as good as a Hylian's.

"Do you hear any sound of fighting?" she asked Polonius.

"No, Your Highness."

"Is that a good thing, you think?" she asked anxiously. Arrows made almost no sound and the bandits were obviously good archers and not afraid to shoot.

"I think it's a good thing," he replied, making her feel a little better. "If they were in trouble, we'd hear it."

That was true. Even if they were being shot, there would be the sound of men in pain and shouts of alarm. The occasional shouts she heard sounded like neither.

"What would we do if they _were_ in trouble?" Amichen asked.

Polonius' face—which had been none too happy—grew darker. "Nothing. My duty is to protect you and guard this road." Then he sighed. "Although I don't know how I'm going to meet my destiny if I have to stay away from the fighting."

"What destiny?" Amichen asked curiously.

"My star chart said I had two choices in my life: to live as a humble farmer, as my parents and grandparents had, or become a knight of great renown and die in service.

"My parents gave me the choice to stay at home or go to the Academy and pursue knighthood, and I chose to be a knight. Even during my vigil my father came to me and told me that I did not have to go through with it—that I could still come home and take over the family farm and live a peaceful life and die in my own bed. But I loved the idea of knighthood and honor the way that other men love a woman; I couldn't imagine living without either. So I decided to live in glory and die doing my duty.

"Only . . . I haven't died. Every time I've faced an opponent, I've thought, 'This could be it; my last.' To be honest, I never thought I would get this old. But here I am."

"Naissus and the others said that knights usually retire long before they're your age. Is that why you're still active? Because you're still looking for your death?"

He looked thoughtful. "I hadn't looked at it that way before, but yes, that's probably accurate."

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you held back, but I very much appreciate your sacrifice. I would be afraid if I didn't have you with me."

Polonius looked mortified. "Oh, Your Highness, forgive me. I didn't mean to imply that I dislike doing my duty for you."

"It's alright, Sir Polonius. My mother always left someone behind with me when the court went somewhere, and I know that staying with me fell to whoever drew the short straw. It's not something anyone wants to do, but I appreciate it all the same."

He looked even more appalled. He reached over for her hand, then bowed quite low to kiss it. "Your Highness, I should be happy to volunteer to stay with you anytime. In fact, I was already planning to ask Prince Naissus if he was in need of a bailiff or captain of his household guard when you move to your new duchy. I believe I would prefer to serve the two of you more than anyone else."

"Why?" Amichen asked, genuinely curious.

"Because I have a lot of respect for the prince; it's not easy to come back after what happened to him, but he's staying the course. And you are such a sweet lady, I can't imagine serving anyone better."

Amichen smiled, feeling warm all over. "I will ask Naissus if you can come with us. Of course, it will be a few years, I'm sure, until everything's built and we can move in."

He laughed. "It seems that I'm made of time, Your Highness; I can wait." Then he bowed and kissed her hand again. "Regardless, I am your man. Ask of me and you shall receive."

Amichen was surprised. "I don't know what I've done to earn your respect, sir, but I am thankful for your friendship."

He smiled. "What have you done? Nothing much—just made me feel better about being old."

A moment later, they were interrupted by someone whistling long and shrill. When they turned to look, they saw a man standing outside the village, waving his arm.

"That's our signal," Polonius said, taking up his reins. "Let's see if they need any help."

Amichen and the others all followed Polonius at the trot.

"How goes it?" Polonius asked when they came near the man.

"No problems. No one here but women and children."

"No one hurt?" the doctor asked anxiously.

"No."

Amichen breathed a sigh of relief. With renewed confidence, she followed Polonius into the village.

She was actually surprised by what she saw. There was nearly a dozen round, wattle-and-daub houses with tall conical roofs covered in some sort of reed thatching. The common area between the two rows of houses was unpaved, but leaves and pine needles kept it from being muddy. Between the houses were tidy gardens full of vegetables and behind some houses there were small sties with pigs and even one with a cow. Chickens clucked anxiously in the common area and fled from the oncoming horses.

It was all so normal _._ It could be any village anywhere. Nothing about it screamed _bandit hideout_.

At the far end of the common area, there was a large group of women, children, and a few old men. They were all sitting on the ground with their hands on their heads. A few of Naissus' men stood over them, swords drawn and ready.

Naissus walked over to Amichen and Polonius. "Not a man of fighting age among them," he told them in a low voice. "But every last house has the coins in it."

"So we know at least some of them came back here," Polonius said.

Naissus nodded. "The problem is: where are they? Why leave their women and children unguarded if they knew or suspected we were coming?"

"Because they know you won't hurt them," Amichen said. Naissus and Polonius both looked at her in surprise. "Why risk yourselves guarding something that's in no real danger?" she continued. "In fact, the women and children are more at risk if you have a pitched battle here, where they are. Better to leave them where they'll be safe, then retreat to some place easily defendable."

"I didn't realize you were a student of tactics, Your Highness." Polonius said, sounding impressed.

"It's hard not to get an education when you grow up with the Queen of Shi-Ha as your mother." She looked at Naissus. "There are near-constant squabbles and raids between noblemen in my country. This isn't the first time I've known women and children to be left behind when an enemy approaches. In fact, if you don't leave them behind, it's considered an insult to your enemy—like calling him dishonorable to his face. To leave them behind is to acknowledge that your enemy is an honorable man who can be trusted to care for them properly."

Naissus looked back at the group of villagers. "Somehow, I don't think they were left behind as a compliment to us."

"Regardless, we have to do something with them," Polonius pointed out.

"It is customary to take them away and hold them for ransom," Amichen said.

"We'll take them back to Hyrule, but not for ransom," Naissus said darkly. "I want nothing less than those bandits' heads."

"But what will you do with them?" Amichen asked anxiously.

"That's my father's decision to make." He noticed her looking at him fearfully. "He won't execute them, if that's what you're worried about. Unless they're wanted for their own crimes, he will probably just detain them until we're sure we have most or all of the bandits, then they'll be released. But, if it were me, I would release them one at a time and send them off to various places so they can't easily find one another again."

Polonius nodded. "Break up their community."

"Exactly. Most of them probably won't get into any trouble without their menfolk, but you can't ever tell what they might do if they're left together. There are legends of a group of widowed women in Erenrue who banded together and created their own village in the mountains. They defended themselves against all bandits and Shi-Ha raiders, and it's said that when Erenrue went to war, they volunteered to fight and even the knights were amazed by their ferocity."

"Are those the ones who supposedly drank the blood of their enemies?" Amichen asked.

"Yes." Naissus looked back at the prisoners. "I don't want these women to get a similar idea. I think we all prefer our blood to stay in our bodies."

Naissus left to oversee the disposition of the prisoners. It took several hours because Master Graydon first had to fit all of the prisoners with a magical set of ankle shackles that kept them from teleporting or using telepathy, even once they were outside the magical barrier. Then he had to set up his equipment and cast a spell that allowed him to open a localized hole in the shield. Naissus relayed their status directly to his father and received an update from most of the other Hyrulian groups: they had found nothing so far. No reports had been received from the Erenrue or Shi-Ha contingents, so it was possible that they had found something, but it was unlikely; elsewise, they would have reported in, just as Naissus had done.

Some additional reserve troops were teleported in and Naissus put them, half the squires, and one knight in charge of the prisoners. They packed up all the food they could carry and marched out, taking the prisoners back to Hyrule. Naissus specifically instructed them to take a different route out than the one they came in, in case the village had been a trap and the enemy was lying in ambush, just waiting for a portion of the force to come back by with prisoners in tow.

Noon came and went while they were sorting things out, so Amichen went into one of the houses and helped herself to something for lunch. She made something for Naissus and Sir Polonius too, and when she saw the other men looking at their lunches with naked longing, she went back and began to make more. Soon, she was feeding all of the men—much to their gratitude.

It was well into the afternoon by the time they finally saw the prisoners off. Naissus gathered up his men to discuss the situation and Amichen went along with them.

"Do we want to press on while we still have a few hours of sunlight left?" he asked. "I think we can assume that the bandits are somewhere relatively close by, so that either leaves us finding and engaging with them about the time we start to lose our light, or make camp in what is most assuredly enemy territory—and with our number reduced by four. Or do we stay here? We'll be a bit more scattered, but that can also work to our advantage as it makes them scatter to take us on."

"We could set our own ambush," one knight suggested. "If they just left to go hunting or something—if they didn't suspect that we were coming or that we would get this far—they might return and we could catch them off guard."

"True. Even if they fled because of us, they might be tempted to come back under cover of darkness to check on their families or get food," another one agreed.

"Maybe we should all occupy a house and get fires and lights going, as if everything is normal. What men we have to spare can keep a watch or walk a patrol."

"Who is good at climbing trees?" Naissus asked, looking out over the men. A couple of the squires and a couple more of the younger knights raised their hands. "You four go ahead and rest as best you can; when it gets dark each of you will get in a tree where you can watch over the village. If the bandits return, sound a horn and alert the rest of us. Everyone else will sleep with their boots on and their swords at their sides, ready to spring into action."

Naissus assigned a few men to a patrol, then he and Amichen went back to the house where she had been preparing lunch.

"I guess I better get started on supper," she chuckled.

"I appreciate you feeding everyone earlier," Naissus said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed in the one-room house. "But don't feel obligated to feed everyone supper, too. They can fend for themselves."

"I like feeling helpful," Amichen said. "So far I've just been tagging along, more burden than help."

He held his arm out to her, beckoning to her. She went to him and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "You are not a burden," he said firmly. "And . . . I will admit that I've been glad to have you with me." He smiled a little. "I just wish I could ride in the back in Sir Polonius' place; the two of you sound like you're having a good time."

Amichen laughed. "We are. But he would be all too happy to trade places with you. He says his destiny is to die in service, so he'd prefer to be out front."

"All the more reason to have him in the back," Naissus said. "I don't want a suicidal person to be in charge of my men."

"I don't think he's suicidal, just . . . heroic."

"There's only a fine line between the two."

"Actually, I think he's accepted the fact that he seems destined to live and die an old man. He said he wanted to ask about serving us once we have our duchy."

"Really?" Naissus asked, looking surprised. "I wonder why?"

"He said he admired the way you've been training—what was it he said exactly?—something about you staying the course, I think."

Naissus smiled. "I shouldn't be surprised that a knight that won't retire approves of me refusing to do the same."

"Will you give him a place?" Amichen asked.

"I would be honored to give him any command or position he should ask for—although, to be honest, I'm not sure if I feel right being in command of someone like him. He's a better knight than I'll ever be."

"Don't sell yourself short; you still have many years left to catch up."


	26. Duty Served

The night passed quietly and without incident—although no one got much rest since they all slept with one eye open. Even Amichen startled awake at every hoot of an owl or particularly loud chirrup of a cricket. They left the village well after sunrise the following morning—no one moving particularly fast.

There was no road out of the village, so they continued to move south-southeast with the intention of joining up with the others somewhere along the coast.

Shortly after their midday stop for lunch, Naissus' scouts began coming back with reports that something was in the forest.

"I felt like I was being watched," Amichen overheard one tell Naissus. "I never saw anything, but I could feel that something was wrong."

"Did you see any evidence that men or horses around?"

"No, and I checked the ground extra close. I couldn't find anything out of place, but something was wrong nonetheless. The hair on the back of my neck stood up more than once and I knew that someone was watching me."

Another one reported, "There weren't any animal sounds where I was—not even insects—but I'll be damned if I could find a trace of anyone."

"Maybe they have animal forms," someone else suggested. "They could be watching us as birds or something and we'd look right past them."

"If they're anything, they're snakes," Amichen said.

"Snakes, rats—hell, cockroaches—we'd walk right past them and never know," the knight replied.

Naissus chewed on his bottom lip, looking worried. He called over Polonius and explained the situation to him.

"You've hunted criminals and people trying to escape justice," Naissus said. "What do you recommend we do? I feel like we're walking into another trap."

"If they can follow us and spy on us, then there's not a lot we can do to avoid a trap. Even retreating is probably not an option at this point; they might have us surrounded. We might deviate our course from time to time to keep from becoming too predictable, but beyond that, I don't know what to do. We're in their territory, so it's easy for them to drive us to toward a trap they've already set and nearly impossible for us to do the same thing."

"Should I leave my scouts out or pull them back in? Alone, they're an easy target—we'd never know they were gone until they didn't come back. And with a reduced force we're also a softer target. But, of course, if I don't have them, I'm going forward blind."

"You're already doing that, Your Highness."

Naissus nodded, then went back to chewing his lip. Finally, he said, "I'll keep my scouts in. The bigger our force, the less likely it will be attacked. If we can make it to the coast and join up with someone else, then we can come back and do a more thorough sweep."

"I think that sounds wise, Your Highness."

"Thank you for your counsel," Naissus said in a low voice. "I admit that I greatly fear another ambush and I worry that my personal fear will get in the way of my decision making."

"All men fear something. The foolish pretend their fear doesn't exist; the wise accept it and try to work around it," Polonius said sagely.

Naissus instructed everyone to stretch the column out until they were only two men wide. They were close enough together to still be a group, but they were a less attractive target for archers.

They continued on without a break for several hours. Every man was silent and alert, constantly looking around for any sign of trouble. Amichen noticed that even the woods around them seemed to be silent and she understood what the scouts had been saying: she felt as if she was being watched.

The ground became rocky and the deciduous trees turned into evergreens. The thick mat of needles on the forest floor seemed to muffle sound, making the silence even more noticeable. Whenever a horse kicked a rock or a man broke a stick underfoot, the sound pinged loudly off the rocks around them, making everyone jump.

Soon, the rocks became dense enough that they were left with few choices of a path through them. Amichen noticed that this made everyone even more anxious. There was no way they could vary their course to make it hard to set an ambush; their route was determined for them. And if the bandits were familiar with the area, they would surely know that there were few ways through the rocky terrain.

The rocks became larger until they were higher than their heads and the passes through them were so narrow they had to travel single-file. Naissus sent a couple of the youngest, most agile men scrambling up the rocks to follow along the top and make sure they wouldn't be ambushed from above.

Early in the afternoon, the rocks quickly began to diminish in size again until they were no more than knee high. Rugged pines grew out of cracks everywhere and their needles covered rock and ground alike in a brown carpet.

"Finally, we're out of the worst of the rocks," Polonius muttered under his breath with relief.

A moment later—just when everyone was visibly relaxing—there was an echoing thud that sounded like an ax in wood, followed by a creak and the sound of breaking branches like a tree slowly falling.

Amichen gaped in utter disbelief as a huge tree trunk came swinging down on their group like a scythe. There was a brief shout by the men ahead of her, then screams as the tree mowed through the line and knocked them through the air like skittles before a ball.

The tree missed Amichen and Polonius by a few feet, but it caused both of their horses to panic and rear. Amichen fell onto her backside and Polonius fell a few feet away from her. Amichen covered her head and tried to make herself as small as possible as their horses tangled with the pack horses, leads snapped, and all of them turned and ran back the way they had come.

"Highness, are you alright?"

Polonius picked Amichen up by the arms, putting her on her feet before she even knew which way was up.

"I . . . think so," she said slowly. Then she saw the broken bodies of the men and other horses scattered across the rocks.

"Naissus!" she shouted. She started to run to him, but a strong hand on her arm jerked her to a stop.

"No, Your Highness," Polonius said firmly. Amichen glanced at him and saw he had his sword drawn.

A moment later, a soft, muffled laugh came from nearby. To Amichen's amazement, men began rising from the ground like mushrooms after a rain storm. It looked as if they had made holes in the ground for themselves and covered them with debris that blended seamlessly with the forest floor.

"I think you've been looking for us?" a familiar voice mocked. Amichen gasped in horror as the black-bearded bandit appeared from behind a rock.

Polonius stepped in front of Amichen and took a defensive stance.

This made the bandit leader laugh. "Old man, do you have a death wish? You're outnumbered twelve-to-one."

"It wouldn't be a fair fight if you had fewer men," Polonius threw back.

The bandit laughed again, then waved one of his men forward. "Send grandfather there to his final reward."

"Back up," Polonius hissed to Amichen. She hurriedly backpedaled and he did the same.

The axman who was walking leisurely towards Polonius laughed at this apparent show of cowardice. "That's right, run old man."

But Amichen saw what the arrogant bandit apparently didn't: Polonius had backed up until he was flanked on either side by tall rocks. There was only room for one bandit at a time to attack him and there was no easy way for any of the remainder to outflank them and come up behind him and Amichen. Even Amichen knew the strength of one man or small group of people holding a narrow pass against many times their number.

The overconfident bandit sauntered towards Polonius, swinging his ax back and forth in what must have been an attempt to intimidate. Then he suddenly rushed forward, his ax held high. He must have thought he could overpower Polonius, or that Polonius would be slow to respond. But Polonius had been fighting undisciplined criminals since long before his opponent was born and he easily ducked the man's blow and skewered him through the middle.

"Eleven-to-one," Polonius mocked as the bandit fell to the ground before him and started to die rather noisily.

The bandit leader was no longer smiling. "Cretes," he barked. A small man with two swords in his hands stepped forward. He was small, but Amichen thought him very wicked-looking.

He ran at Polonius with a screech, apparently relying on his speed. Amichen felt a sudden grip of fear as she remembered one of Naissus' brothers saying that Polonius wasn't very fast. But that must have been according to a much more exacting standard, because he had no trouble knocking both of the bandit's blades aside and giving him a swift kick to the midsection. The bandit stumbled backwards, tripped over his dying companion, and fell onto his backside. Polonius swung his sword, beheading him with ease.

Two bandits ran in simultaneously before their boss could even say anything. But as Amichen had already foreseen, the narrow pass through the rocks was a hindrance to them. They tried to fight Polonius two abreast, but every move one made halted or entangled the other's movement. Polonius finished them both off with a combination stroke that took out the left one, then the right one, seamlessly.

Bandit number five also tried to rush Polonius, only to get hacked down. Number six tripped over the wall of bodies that was now protecting Polonius like breastworks and Polonius easily dispatched him before he could even take a swing.

"Half down," Polonius mocked again.

Another two men started to rush forward, but their leader stopped them with a shout. "He's mine," he growled.

He pulled out his long, heavy sword—the one that had cost Naissus his eye—and he slowly approached Polonius.

Amichen noticed Polonius set his feet firmly and took up a strong stance. Apparently he expected the bandit leader to be more of a challenge than his followers.

The black-bearded bandit walked slowly up to the pile of bodies and stopped. He stared at Polonius, sizing him up. Polonius looked back levelly, making no sound and not moving a muscle.

A few tense seconds passed, then the bandit leader suddenly leapt over the wall of bodies with a cry, bringing his sword down towards Polonius' head. Polonius threw up his sword to block.

Back and forth they went, steel clashing and bodies wheeling, one trying to get the upper hand on the other.

It didn't take long for Amichen to notice that Polonius was slowing. Even though his previous kills had been relatively easy, that didn't mean that he hadn't been exerting himself. A man of his age no doubt tired out more easily than young men, and the bandit was probably less than a quarter of Polonius' age.

The bandit chopped down, making Polonius block high. Then, in the blink of an eye, he spun around and cut his sword across Polonius' middle. Polonius wasn't fast enough to block or jump out of the way and the cut opened him from hip to hip.

Polonius cried out and fell to his knees, his arm desperately clamped over the slash, trying to keep his bowels in.

"Polonius!" Amichen shouted.

The black-haired bandit turned to look at her, as if only just noticing her. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Princess of Shi-Ha. Turned Princess of Hyrule, so I hear. Did you like me so well the first time that you had to come back?"

The remaining bandits behind him laughed meanly.

Amichen froze. She had felt safe with Naissus and the others around her, and she had vainly thought herself protected. But now she cursed herself a fool. She was in the exact same position she had been in before; there was no one left to save her.

"Princess," Polonius croaked. Then, with the last of his strength, he lobbed his sword at her. It flew past the bandit leader and landed at her feet.

The bandit turned back to look at Polonius with surprise. Amichen was quick to take advantage of his distraction to pick up the sword. It was so heavy, she had to hold it in two hands, but she did manage to hold it in a low guard.

The bandit turned back to her; Polonius had collapsed to the ground, finished. "Do you think you can do something to me when your best knight couldn't touch me?" he asked her.

Amichen knew he was right; she had no hope of fighting him. That only left two choices: allow herself to be taken and abused again, or fall on the sword. And in her mind, the first choice wasn't an option.

She turned the sword around, gripping the blade in both of her hands, and placed the point against her stomach. The bandit's eyes went wide with surprise.

But before she could move, a snarl cut through the silence and a gray blur of fur slammed into the bandit's shoulder.

Amichen watched in shock as a wolf rode the bandit leader to the ground. A moment later, the wolf had him by the throat and his shout of surprise turned into an increasingly high-pitched scream. Then it was cut off completely.

The remaining bandits shouted and rushed forward to save their boss. The wolf lifted its bloody muzzle and turned its face to the new threat. But the narrow pass forced the bandits—like all the others before them—into a single-file line, and the wolf was able to hit them head-on.

It was a blur of speed. First it was knocking down one, then turning to bite another. It grabbed one by the sword hand and dragged the man to his knees. It had no time to finish any of them, but it hurt them enough that they fell to the ground and were slow to get up.

Amichen noticed that the wolf was carrying one of its front paws up, as if it were hurt. But that didn't seem to slow it down as it attacked the men in a furious rage.

One by one, it managed to rip out the throats of the bandits. It was working on the next-to-last one when the man's companion kicked the wolf hard in the ribs and sent it flying with a yelp. The wolf hit a rock and fell to the ground and didn't move.

The bandit bore down on it with his sword raised. Suddenly, Amichen was running across the ground with Polonius' sword held in front of her, like a spear. Using all her weight and momentum, she slammed into the back of the bandit, driving the blade all the way through him.

The only thing that crossed her mind at that moment was how surprisingly easy it had been to drive the blade in.

The bandit gasped and groped blindly at the blade, as if he could somehow pull it out. Then he fell over, ripping the handle from Amichen's hands.

Amichen looked down, but instead of the limp form of the wolf, she saw a bloodstained Naissus lying next to the rock. She knelt beside him, terrified that the blood was his. But when she touched him, he opened his eye and croaked, "Thanks."

"Oh, Naissus, are you hurt very badly?"

"I'm bruised all to hell, but nothing worse than that, I think."

She began to sob, wanting desperately to hold onto him, but afraid to touch him.

"Shh, I'm alright," he reassured her. "And so are you. I told you that I wouldn't let anyone ever hurt you again."

He managed push himself into a sitting position, then he held his arm out to Amichen. She threw herself onto him, crying into his neck.

"Shh, it's alright," he soothed, stroking her hair with his hand.

He let her cry for a minute, then he interrupted her. "Amichen, sweetheart, can you do something for me?"

It took her another minute, but she pulled back and wiped her face mostly dry. "What?"

He looked at the bandit he had been working on when the other kicked him away. The man's throat was bloody, but it was clear that Naissus hadn't finished his work; the man was starting to stir.

"Could you finish that one off for me?" Naissus asked.

Amichen nodded, then got to her feet. It took a moment for her knees to quit trembling enough to walk.

She went to the bandit she killed and put her foot against his back. It took several tugs before she got Polonius' sword pulled out.

She went over to the still-living bandit and stood over him. She hesitated though; it wasn't too hard to kill someone in a panic in the middle of battle. Executing someone was another matter entirely.

She closed her eyes and turned her head away, but she still plunged the sword point into the man's throat. He gurgled, choking on his blood, then quickly expired.

"Good girl," Naissus said. "Now, can you do one more thing for me?"

"What?" Amichen asked, looking at him. He was trying to wipe the blood from his face as he spoke. It was clear that it disgusted him.

"Can you check the others?" he asked, gesturing to the remaining men on the ground. "We don't want anyone sneaking up behind us."

Amichen certainly agreed that she didn't want that to happen, so she swallowed the bile in the back of her throat and checked the other bodies on the ground. But the men Naissus had attacked all had dead, staring eyes, and she knew that Polonius had delivered mortal blows to the rest. There were no more bandits—at least in this part of the forest.

Amichen knelt beside Sir Polonius and turned him over, but she found that he had already expired.

"Is he gone?" Naissus asked, watching her.

"Yes."

"Gods bless him. I wish I could have helped you both sooner, but he bought enough time for me to save you, at least."

Amichen started to fix Polonius' body so he was laid out with dignity. "This was what he wanted—to die as a knight."

"He certainly did that." Naissus watched Amichen as she worked. "Where is his sword?" he asked as she finished.

"I have it," she said, showing it to him. "Should I leave it with him?"

He looked at her curiously. "Did you pick it up after he fell?"

"No, he threw it to me." She looked down at him sadly. "It was the last thing he did."

"He threw you his sword?" Naissus asked, sounding very surprised.

"Yes." She turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Knights become very attached to their swords. We don't often let someone borrow our sword; in fact, it's a sign of respect or friendship if you allow someone to use your sword."

"I felt that he was my friend," Amichen said. "I guess he felt the same way."

Naissus slowly—and painfully—pushed himself to his feet. "It's more than that," he said, sounding a little breathless. As soon as he was upright, he clutched his bruised ribs.

"More? How?"

It took him a moment to collect himself before responding. "It's considered a very high mark of honor to die with your sword in your hand," he explained. "To say that someone would be willing to 'die sword-in-hand' means they're brave. Many knights who are dying a natural death will call for their sword so they can die with it in their hand; 'called for his sword' is even a euphemism for death. And nearly every knight is buried with his sword."

"So . . . Polonius gave up that honor for me?"

"Yes. Sometimes a knight might choose to pass his sword on to someone—often a child, but sometimes to someone he has loved like a child, or to a dear friend. It's the single greatest gift a knight can give to anyone. It's considered a great act of self-sacrifice because the knight is giving up the honor of dying with his sword in his hand and gives up being buried with something that is . . . like an extension of himself."

Naissus gestured to Polonius' body. "Take off his sword belt."

"Why?" Amichen asked.

"Because you're going to put it on so you can wear his sword."

Amichen didn't move. "But . . . maybe he only meant for me to use it to defend myself. Maybe he didn't know he would die, or expected me to give back. He never said he was giving it to me permanently." She didn't like the idea of taking Polonius' sword away; if everyone else was buried with theirs, then he should be buried with his, too. He deserved it probably more than anyone else.

"He passed it to you; that makes it yours. It would be beyond insulting to his memory to refuse it."

"I don't even know how to use it."

"Says the woman who just saved my life with it."

"Well, I wasn't _really_ using it. I didn't even swing it or anything." She looked down at the sword, stained heavily with blood. "I'm not worthy of anyone's sword, much less Sir Polonius'."

Naissus limped to her side and put his hand on hers, pressing her fingers even more tightly around the hilt of the sword. "Amichen . . . I don't know if I can explain this to you because our cultures view bravery and dedication and service so differently. When a knight lets someone use his sword, or even when he gives it up entirely, it's not because the recipient was adjudged a good warrior and is deserving of a good sword. If that were the case, then any sword could be given as a gift. A knight's personal sword is just that: _personal_. Sharing it—or giving it—says 'I am willing to share or give a part of myself to you.'

"As a knight, Polonius' job was to protect you—even with his life. In that, he did his duty. But when he threw you his sword—when he gave the only other thing he had to give, in the hopes that he could help protect you even from beyond the grave—he gave you something very personal: himself. You had a right to his service, but he gave you all of himself. How can you reject that?"

Amichen felt tears spring up in her eyes. When he put it that way, of course she could do no less than keep Polonius' sword.

She bent down and took off the sword belt from Polonius' body, then buckled it around her waist. Naissus helped her slide the sword back into its scabbard.

"Will you teach me how to use it?" Amichen suddenly asked.

"The sword?"

"Yes."

"I can do that. Although Talent and Laertes are both better swordsmen than I am—especially now. They could probably do a better—"

"No, I want you to do it," Amichen said. She thought the best way to honor Polonius wasn't just to wear his sword but learn how to use it. Gods forbid that there should be another time like this one, but if there was, she wanted to fight. She would never again stand helplessly by and watch her friends be cut down. And she felt that Naissus would be a better teacher than anyone else, both because he understood her so well and because he knew what it was like to be at a physical disadvantage.

They moved slowly out of the pass and back to where their other companions lay scattered across the rocks and forest floor. Amichen saw a nearby man stirring and she ran over to check on him.

She looked up at Naissus a moment later. "He's only partially-conscious, but other than that, he doesn't look too bad—maybe some broken bones."

"Check the others, please," Naissus said, still clutching his ribs; it was clear that moving caused him considerable pain.

Amichen went around to the rest of the men and, surprisingly, found that they were all alive—although they were all battered. Naissus had gotten lucky; his horse had taken the brunt of the trap, and he had been thrown clear of it, just getting the breath knocked out of him and a bevy of bruises for his trouble. The men on foot, however, had taken the full force, and there were broken ribs and arms and wrists to go around. A few men were unconscious—in addition to the man who was half in and half out of consciousness—and one was bleeding from the mouth, possibly indicating a punctured lung.

Unlike Naissus, the physician and the magician both had gotten trapped under their horses. One of the horses had already died, but one was still groaning in agony. When Naissus couldn't convince it to get up, he had to put it out its misery. It took Naissus' and Amichen's combined strength to pull the men out from under the horses.

The doctor was among those who were unconscious and he had a nasty bleeding head wound—which might or might not include a cracked skull. The magician, Master Graydon, was conscious to start with, but when they pulled on him, he blacked out. The reason soon became apparent; his left femur was broken.

"What are we going to do?" Amichen asked Naissus anxiously. "These men need help, but the doctor's not going to be able to help them."

"We need to teleport them out."

"But Master Graydon will need to open a hole in the shield before they can do that, right?"

"Yes."

"What if he can't? He's hurt pretty badly."

"Then we'll have to leave them behind and try to find the others so we can send help back."

Amichen lowered her voice. "Some of these men won't make it; they need immediate medical attention."

"I know," Naissus said sadly. But there was nothing more either one of them could do.

They waited for a quarter of an hour before the magician regained consciousness.

"If we help you, can you open the shield so we can get the injured out?" Naissus asked him as quickly as possible.

The man took a minute to respond; it looked as if he was having some trouble focusing through his pain. "Yes, I think so," he finally replied.

"Tell us what to do."

It turned out that not all of the equipment that he needed was on his horse; some was on one of the pack horses.

"They ran off when that tree hit you," Amichen told Naissus.

He sighed wearily and leaned against a rock; his face was pale. "Do you think you could look for them?" he asked, looking at her.

"I can try."

"There aren't a lot of ways they could have gone, so if you just go back the way we came, you should run across them. I doubt they went very far."

"Alright," she said, starting to turn away.

"Don't go very far," he warned. "If you get into trouble, whistle for me or call out or something. Don't go so far away I won't be able to hear you."

"I won't go far," she promised, before heading back down the rocky pass.

She ended up going farther than she probably should have, but the horses' tracks where they churned up the pine needles as they ran was so clear, even she—with no experience tracking—could follow them.

A whicker greeted her when she finally came upon three of the horses. Two belonged to her and Polonius; the third was a pack horse. The other three pack horses were not within sight.

"There you are," Amichen said, holding her hand out to her horse. He lipped her palm, searching for a treat. Polonius' horse barged over, eager to get his share.

"I don't have anything for naughty horses," Amichen said, taking the reins of both horses; the pack horse was still tethered to Polonius'. She couldn't be sure if it had the equipment the magician needed or not, so she led the horses a little farther down the trail, but after five minutes, she finally decided that she had gone too far already; the other horses—and their equipment—would just have to be a loss unless Naissus wanted to come back and search for them himself.

Amichen mounted up and trotted back up the trail. Naissus met her near where she had left him.

"Any trouble?" he asked, taking her horse's bridle in hand.

"No, but I couldn't find the other pack horses. I could see where they kept running, but I was afraid to go any farther."

"I'm surprised they split up; horses are pack animals and like to stay together. But who knows what a horse will do in a blind panic?"

Luck was finally with them, though; the pot and tripod that the magician needed were on the sole remaining pack horse.

Naissus built a fire while Amichen ground and combined herbs under the magician's watchful eye. Within the hour, the spell was complete.

"I want all of you to go home," Naissus said, addressing the conscious men sitting around the area. The least injured were tending their unconscious and seriously-injured fellows.

"You're coming too, aren't you, sire?" one of the younger knights asked.

"No. I'm going to join up with the others."

"We can't leave you behind," another knight said.

"And I can't leave Amichen behind," Naissus pointed out.

"I can stay with you," the young knight volunteered. He had a broken wrist, which Naissus had splinted while Amichen was gone to look for the horses.

"You will be little use to me with that wrist, Matthais," Naissus said. "And when you get a fever, you'll be even less so."

There was some more arguing back and forth before Naissus finally held up his hand. "Sirs, this is not up for debate," he said firmly. "I want to travel quickly and quietly; injured men aren't conducive to either."

"At least bring in a guard," one knight suggested.

"I've been ambushed as part of a large group twice now; I prefer to try slipping past with only us two. Besides, Amichen said we killed the bandits' leader, plus we've taken out about half their number. If there are even any left in this forest, they're likely to be disorganized."

The knight opened his mouth again, but Naissus cut him off. "I prefer to take my chances alone," Naissus insisted.

Finally, they gave up arguing with him and teleported out. Court physicians and some castle guards were brought in, though, to take care of the men who were still unconscious.

"How bad is it?" Naissus asked after the head physician had inspected each of the prone figures.

"I think they will all live," the doctor pronounced. "But I would prefer to have them back at the castle; I don't want them to get a chill tonight when it gets damp."

"I'm leaving the horses behind—and there are a three more down the trail that are missing. If you want to use them to try to carry the men out, you're welcome to them."

"I think it would probably be best to leave them still until they come around on their own."

"Do whatever you think best. I'm leaving the hole in the magic open so you can get supplies in and people out, as necessary. It seems unlikely that any bandits will come here and get out through it—if they even discover it's here."

Naissus took a tent, blanket, some food, and a cookpot from the pack horse. Then he spent a rather long time fussing with all of it, laying out the blanket first, then folding the tent on top of it just so and rolling all of it up tightly with the food tucked inside. Then he took some doubled-up rope and, with Amichen's help—such as it was, because she still had no idea what he was trying to do—he crossed the rope back and forth around the bulky roll, threaded the cookpot's handle through the rope near one end of the roll, then tied the ends together in a loop to match the loop he had left at the other end.

"Do you mind carrying this?" Naissus asked once he was done. "It will be easier if I don't have anything weighing me down or getting in the way."

"I will if you show me how I'm supposed to carry it. It looks like there's a method to it, but I still haven't figured it out."

Naissus pointed. "Put your arms through the loops and hoist it onto your back.

Amichen understood then. She had seen porters and fishwives and farmers carrying baskets and even large stacks of goods on their backs before.

She picked up the bulky pack and, with only a little trouble, got it onto her back.

"Is that alright?" Naissus asked, looking her over. "Is it too heavy?"

"No, it's fine," she said.

"It may not be after a time—especially using rope instead of proper straps. That will probably start to rub you raw after a while. Be sure to tell me and we'll stop to let you rest."

"I'll be fine," she assured him.

Naissus and Amichen left the group behind and continued south by southeast. One benefit of being free of horses was that they could hop on top of the rocks and walk across them instead of being forced to take the few natural paths that cut through them. That meant that they could move across country in unexpected ways—hopefully missing any more traps and ambushes. It also seemed that it would be a good deal harder for bandits to pop up out of solid rock.

Naissus had to rest long before Amichen did—although she took the opportunity to relieve herself of the pack for a while. She understood what Naissus was saying about it making her raw; the rope straps pinched a little in the armpits and that was sure to become tender in the not-too-distant future.

"Gods I ache!" Naissus said, as he sat down on a rock with a huff. Amichen noticed he wasn't just resting his left arm against his body, but was actually using it to try and cradle his bruised ribs.

Amichen sat down beside him, having to be careful of the sword dangling from her hip. "You should have gone back with the others and let some of the guards escort me to the rendezvous point."

He looked at her in disbelief. "And what on earth makes you think I would have done that?"

"Because you're injured and you should have."

"I can still walk."

"A lot of idiots can walk. That doesn't mean anything."

He looked at her in open-mouthed astonishment, then when she grinned at him, he started to laugh in disbelief. "Did you just call me an idiot?"

"I just made an observation."

"Where did my quiet little wife go?"

"You ruined her when you made her take up a sword."

He laughed. "Oh, is that the way of it?"

"Yep. Just like you ruined me teaching me to drink and gamble."

He laughed even harder. "So I did," he admitted. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the temple. "I like you better since you've been corrupted, you know; you really are more fun."

It was her turn to laugh.


	27. Burdens Lifted

Despite the slow pace that Naissus' bruises demanded, they reached the coast just as the sun was starting to slip below the western horizon.

They stood on the edge of a cliff some sixty feet high and looked down at the deep blue sea topped with thin whitecaps. The ocean broke against the bottom of the cliff, sending spray high in the air—but not high enough to reach Amichen and Naissus unless the wind hit at the same time and carried a faint hint of it up to them.

"Mm, salty," Amichen said appreciatively, inhaling deeply. She had only seen the sea once, and that was when she got to go to Olchi with the rest of the court. She had very fond memories of the place and the salty sea air brought them all flooding back.

"It looks like there's a storm coming in," Naissus said.

"How can you tell?"

"Because the sea looks a little rough."

"Maybe it's like that all the time," she suggested. "They say that big waves crash ashore constantly—even when the sea is calm—around the tip of the Great Southern Desert."

"There are waves in Kakariko, too, but that's because there's a beach. You need a beach to make waves break continuously. Here, there is no beach, so a storm must be pushing the waves ahead of it.

They set up the tent in the shelter of some trees growing a dozen yards or so from the edge of the cliff. Naissus whittled sticks into tent pegs and, with Amichen's help, staked out the tent. Then Amichen filled the tent with as many leaves and pine needles as she could find. Naissus chuckled as he watched her.

"What?" she demanded. "You said you liked how soft it was night before last."

"Yes, I did. But that doesn't mean that I would go to that much trouble to do it again."

"You'll appreciate it tomorrow after the soreness really sets in."

That sobered him. "That's probably true," he admitted.

Naissus was still convinced that there would be a storm, so while he cooked dinner over a tiny fire, he had Amichen gather as many branches as she could to cover the tent. It not only camouflaged them, but it would help keep the rain off. Even normally waterproof canvas would leak if it became saturated enough.

Dinner was done by the time Amichen put the finishing touches on their shelter. She had woven so many branches together, it was impossible to see the sides of the tent. It looked like a strange earthen mound near the edge of the woods.

Naissus looked up at her as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Have you never had any wilderness training?"

"No. The only time I ever left Ninting before you came was to go to Olchi, and we didn't even stay in tents then; there were towns and villages enough to accommodate us on the way." She looked at him. "I rarely got to go outside the castle at all."

"Well, you certainly know how to build a shelter," he praised. "I think we could live here a year before we had something more substantial."

"I would definitely want a bed sooner than that."

Amichen sat down beside Naissus. He put out what was left of the fire "to avoid attracting attention," he said, and they ate their dinner in the rapidly dying light. They had no dishes and only one spoon between them, so they took turns eating out of the cookpot. They had next to nothing, yet Amichen felt strangely content.

"See, I told you," Naissus said, gesturing toward the sea.

Amichen turned to look. "What?" she asked.

"Watch."

A few moments later, a flash of lightning streaked down from the sky in the far distance, turning the clouds around it purple.

"It looks far away," Amichen said.

"It is. But it might reach us; we get weather from the south sometimes."

It grew dark as they sat quietly and watched the flashes of lightning and thick purple clouds creep closer. The wind picked up, refreshingly cool after the warm summer day. The smell of salt became stronger.

"He's gone," Amichen said suddenly.

"Who's gone?"

"Him—the black-bearded man. The bandit leader."

"Was that the man who was threatening you?"

"Yes."

"If I had known who he was at the time, I would have ripped out something other than his throat—at least to start with. I would have saved the throat for last."

Amichen scooted a little closer to Naissus and he put his good arm around her, holding her close. "I'm just glad he's gone. It feels like . . . like a weight has been lifted. He can't hurt me or anyone else ever again."

Naissus kissed her on top of the head. "No, he can't." Then, after a few minutes, he added, "I understand how you feel. I have felt so . . . so inadequate because I didn't protect you. You—more than anyone else—were relying on me to take care of you and I let you down."

"You promised you would let that go."

"It's not that easy. It's always there—and will always be there. But, today, I feel like I redeemed myself a little. It doesn't make up for what happened to you and the others, but . . . I feel like I reclaimed a piece of myself that I had lost."

Amichen considered his words for a moment. "Stolen from you," she corrected.

"What's that?"

"You said you had lost a piece of yourself. I said it was stolen from you—just like something was stolen from me."

He gave her a squeeze. "No one will steal anything from us ever again."

"No, they won't," she said firmly.

Naissus kissed her on top of the head again. "I love you," he said.

Amichen smiled, still getting a little thrill when he said it. "And I love you."

"Do you truly?"

She laughed. "I said I did, didn't I?"

"I think you go out of your way to make me feel better."

She looked up at him. A flash of lightning illuminated his face, but it was unreadable. She wasn't sure if he was genuinely worried, or just fishing for more words of love.

"I wouldn't lie to you just to make you feel better," she said. Then, as if to prove her point, she leaned up to kiss him. It was the first time she had ever offered to kiss him.

She meant it only to be a quick little kiss, but Naissus leaned in, making it last longer. And then it was followed by another one. And another one.

Amichen wrapped her arms around him. "Gently," he murmured.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Isn't that my line?"

"It goes both ways; you know I'm bruised up."

Amichen had been helping Naissus dress and undress for a while, but she had only looked at him and touched him as a friend would. But now her hands explored his body out of curiosity—in order to really get to know him. His arm around her was strong—it felt good to be held—but she could feel him flinch slightly when she touched his left arm and his bruised ribs.

He seemed a contradiction. He could be strong when he needed to be—could even kill to protect her, when necessary—but he was also permanently crippled; certain things would never be easy for him to do again. But Amichen decided that she liked him just the way he was—scars and all. He was someone who understood suffering and she was someone who understood being weak. Together, they understood one another perfectly.

"Someday . . ." she murmured against his lips.

He pulled back a little. "Someday what?" he asked.

"Someday may be today."

He finally caught on. "Really?" he asked with surprise. "Don't feel like you have to," he cautioned. "You don't owe me anything—"

"Shut up and kiss me."

He looked taken aback, but did as he was told.

"I like that," she said, when they broke apart again.

"I like it, too"

"No, I mean I like that you do what I say."

He laughed. "Oh, is that it?" Then he picked up her hand and kissed it. "Sweetheart, I am yours to command."

"Are you my man?"

"You know I am. I am your man and your knight. I live to serve."

She grinned, then stood up. He looked up at her curiously, but stood when she tugged on his hand.

"Let's go in before it rains," she said, leading him to the hidden tent. The wind was blowing hard now and the lightning was racing across the sky like purple water flowing through a river delta. Thunder, still off in the distance, was beginning to catch up. "You can tell me more about how you plan to serve me," she added.

He laughed and let her pull him into the tent.

By the time it finally began to pour rain, neither of them noticed.


	28. Found

Amichen was awakened the next morning when someone suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth. She made a muffled noise and struggled to sit up, but the hand pressed down harder, holding her still.

"Shh!" a voice hissed.

She turned to see Naissus lying beside her, his eye wide and alert. A moment later, she heard what sounded like a stick breaking. Was . . . was that the sound of someone moving?

Naissus put his finger to his lips to caution Amichen to stay quiet, then he reached for his sword. A horse nickered; it didn't sound very far away.

Naissus held his sword out to Amichen. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it, but he signaled her so she understood she was supposed to hold it. Once she had it in her grasp, Naissus slowly slid the blade out of the scabbard.

A moment later, a commanding voice called out harshly. "You in the shelter! You're surrounded. Come out quietly without weapons and your hands on your head."

Amichen broke out in a cold sweat. Why was it that she and Naissus were the only ones who got ambushed by bandits? Were the gods angry with them for some reason? Hadn't they been punished enough?

But when Amichen glanced at Naissus, he was—for some bizarre reason—grinning.

"You sound like a bad ass," he shouted loudly, "but you don't fool me, Renault; I know you spend your spare time composing love poetry."

There was the sound of chuckling around them.

Naissus dropped his sword and fumbled to pull on his underwear while lying prone. Amichen had to help him. Once he had his shorts on, he crawled out of the tent. Amichen hurried to find her own clothes and get dressed.

"We almost didn't find you," she heard Renault say. "If your shelter hadn't been so tall, I don't think we would have noticed it at all."

Naissus laughed. He was the effortless sort of laugh that he used to have. "There's a tent under it, if you can believe it."

"Really?"

"Amichen was worried about the rain."

"So she built you a house?"

He laughed again. "That's what I said."

"Where are the rest of your men?"

"I sent them all back."

Amichen could hear Renault's shock in the moment of silence. "What?" he finally gasped.

"They were all injured and of no help to me—broken bones, mostly."

"But . . . you could have at least brought in some of the reserves—or even the castle guard."

"I didn't want to. As I told them yesterday, I've been ambushed twice with a large force; I wanted to try moving secretly with only two."

"That's so very dangerous."

"Doubt me, brother?"

"Well, it's hard to, really, when it appears you took out all of the bandits yourself."

"Polonius did half before I could recover from the initial hit."

"Was he hurt?"

"He was killed. The only man I lost."

There was another pause. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

Amichen pushed her way out of the tent. The sky was a perfect shade of blue and there wasn't a cloud to be seen. The gentle breeze off the ocean was cool and refreshing. "It was what he wanted," Amichen said as she joined them.

"What was?"

"He told me, on the way here, that his star chart said if he became a knight, he would die in service. He said he had been waiting for it to happen for decades and I think he was afraid he might have somehow missed his chance for glory."

"He certainly earned it," Naissus said. "He took out, what, five?" he asked, looking at Amichen.

"Six, I think."

"Six all by himself. At his age! Imagine what a song that will make!"

"Thank you for telling everyone about my composing, by the way," Renault said to Naissus, his face growing darker.

But Naissus only laughed. "Serves you right for scaring the shit out of me this morning. I only had the best night of my life, and then you wake me up early with your sneaking around and calling out threats."

"Best night?" Renault asked. "With everything that happened to you yesterday, then that big storm to top it all off?"

"Best night ever," Naissus repeated emphatically.

Renault glanced down at him, pointedly looking at the blue-purple bruises on both sides of his ribs and across part of his chest. "I'd hate to see what you look like after your worst night," he said.

"Well, on my worst day, I came out minus an eye and a useable arm. So you can imagine how bad my worst night might be."

"I suppose so." Renault looked around at his men, who were lounging around, taking the opportunity to have a rest. "About half our forces have already rendezvoused with Erenrue and Shi-Ha," he told Naissus and Amichen. "We knew you had gotten into trouble, so I started out this morning, just as soon as there was enough light, to hunt for you."

"You found us."

"So it would seem," Reni said dryly. "And it seems that your unit found all there was to find."

"Seriously? No one else found anything?"

"No. That doesn't mean there's not something we missed, but I doubt it's anything major. We're all going to go back out on different routes than what we came in on, just to be thorough."

Naissus looked at Amichen. "Do you think we got all of the men who attacked you?"

She tried to remember how many men came out of the woods after the attack. "Maybe," she said hesitantly.

"Your mother's source said there were around thirty of them," Renault pointed out.

"We only took out twelve," Naissus said.

"We weren't attacked by thirty men—not the first time," Amichen said firmly. "If there were more than twelve then, it wasn't much more than twelve."

"Then the one we caught is lying."

"Or not all of them participated," Naissus pointed out. "Maybe some of their forces stayed behind so they could teleport out the others if they got into trouble."

"True. It's certainly what I would have done before taking Pallis."

"Amichen said we got their leader, so at least he's gone. If there are any left—if they are even attempting to stay together at all—hopefully they will be disorganized," Naissus said.

"Personally, I don't know why they came back here. If I had that much money, I wouldn't be living wild in this place."

"They had a decent little village set up—women, children, livestock. I suppose some of them had made a home here. Either they didn't want to give up their freedom here or they just hadn't affected a move yet."

"Why steal all that money if they were just going to stay here?" Renault asked.

"Money can still buy a nicer life: better houses, more seed for crops, more animals, food stores put up against crop failures," Naissus enumerated.

Naissus got dressed and one of Renault's men gave them some cold breakfast while another one took down their tent and packed what little they had with them on one of Renault's pack horses.

Renault offered Amichen his horse and he and Naissus walked alongside. Renault kept scouts ahead of them and to the north, but they kept coming back with nothing to report.

As they traveled, Amichen and Naissus recounted everything that had happened to their own force. When Naissus got to the part where he transformed into his animal form, it literally stopped Renault in his tracks.

"Show me," he said.

Naissus obliged, turning into a large gray wolf with one blue eye and one white eye and a lame front leg.

Renault stared for a long moment. "Very fearsome, little brother." Naissus returned to his human form. "You've done something none of the rest of us have," Renault added. Naissus just grinned.

Amichen had the feeling that Naissus lived in the shadow of his big brothers. He loved them too much to be resentful, but he still yearned to stand out in a family that was graced with many exceptional children who had already accomplished all of the firsts. But Naissus now had a claim of his own: he was the first—and currently only—member of the family to discover his animal form.

Renault dropped back at one point to check on his men in the rear of their group and Naissus took the opportunity to move closer to Amichen.

"You look beautiful up there," he said, looking up at her.

She looked down. "Really?"

"Yes. You look . . . confident. And you sit a horse like you were born in the saddle."

She laughed. "So, I don't look like a bag of manure on a drunken horse?"

Naissus looked shocked. "What? Who told you that?" he demanded.

"My mother."

He snorted contemptuously. "You look nothing like that," he said firmly. "You look very graceful. And yet . . . commanding. You look a lot like your mother, actually," he admitted, almost apologetically. "Although she has a haughtiness to her that you don't have."

"I have never been accused of looking like my mother before."

"Why? You favor her—except for the eyes and ears, of course."

"I guess it's because I don't have her demeanor."

"I, for one, am glad of it. I don't care for haughty women." He leaned in, whispering, "And while I don't mind taking orders from you, I certainly wouldn't want to be held in thrall to your mother. She looks like she would hurt me."

Amichen burst out laughing.

Renault reappeared a moment later. "What's so funny?" he asked, looking between the two of them.

"Oh, just something Naissus said about my mother."

"She's a fearsome sort," Renault declared. "I wouldn't want to be on her bad side."

"I'm not entirely sure she has a good side," Amichen said.

"All the more reason to keep my distance. She looks like someone who might hurt me."

Amichen and Naissus both laughed. "Naissus just said the same thing," Amichen said.

"That shows you he's no fool. Do they call her 'the Tiger Queen' because of her personality or is that her animal form?"

"Personality; she doesn't know her animal form, that I'm aware of."

"I hope she never wants to be a tiger," Naissus said. "I'm sure that's what she would turn into."

"If she could turn into one, she would have done it by now," Amichen said. "I think there's nothing more that she would like than to dash into court and swat down the more annoying nobles."

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the others at the sprawling encampment. They were met by Laertes, Amichen's mother, and a man that Amichen hadn't met before, although he looked familiar.

"Prince Gustav, this is Princess Amichen of Shi-Ha, Naissus' wife," Renault introduced. "Princess, this is our cousin, the Crown Prince of Erenrue."

"Wyliss' brother," she said, suddenly realizing why he looked familiar; he bore close resemblance to his sister.

"Her twin, to be specific," he said. He took Amichen's hand in his and kissed it. "It's nice to meet the newest addition to our family."

She smiled at him, but was a little surprised. She had been welcomed to Naissus' family without reservation, but she didn't expect to be acknowledged as family by the royals of Erenrue.

"I'm sorry my wife and I couldn't attend your wedding," he added. "We had too many things at home to take care of."

"I understand. I'm sorry that I couldn't attend the funeral—and I'm especially sorry for what happened to your sister. I wanted to tell her . . . there was much I wanted to tell her, but I was too late."

An expression of deep pain crossed his face. "Naissus mentioned you had written her a letter. I very much appreciate you reaching out to her. I'm not sure if you could have reached her—I think Fennris' loss was more than she could bear—but I appreciate you trying," he said with quiet sincerity. Then he managed a weak smile. "My sister says that she loves you, and I see that I must as well."

Amichen was a little flustered. She had no idea Wyliss felt so strongly about her—and had remarked on it to her brother. And, to be honest, she had just assumed that the people of Erenrue would be cool and begrudging of their friendship—at least at first—because that's what she would expect of her own countrymen in the presence of Erenruites. Maybe the grudge-carrying was entirely one-sided.

Amichen's mother invited Amichen and Naissus to eat dinner with her at her small pavilion. Amichen watched as a servant that her mother had brought with her attended to their needs. Amichen already found that odd, having grown accustomed to Naissus and the other knights taking care of themselves when they were camping.

The queen wanted a full accounting of what had transpired, so Amichen and Naissus found themselves telling their story yet again.

"What did you plan on doing with the sword?" the queen asked when Amichen came to the part where she picked up Polonius' sword.

"I was going to fall on it."

Naissus looked at her with a pained expression. "Would you have? Really?

"I already had it in my hands, about to do it, when you came," she said. "I didn't have any hope of killing him, and I wasn't going to let him take me again, so that left me no alternative."

"I will make sure you learn how to use that sword on other people," he vowed.

Her mother snorted. "Good luck with that."

Naissus perked a brow. "Apparently I did a better job teaching her how to ride than your masters in Shi-Ha did. So perhaps I can do better with swordplay as well."

The queen laughed a little. "You're a conceited little thing, aren't you?"

"I'm not conceited. Amichen told me that you said she rode very badly. I got her onto a horse just a couple of months ago and now she rides very well. It's not conceit if you do what you say you can do."

Naissus left soon after to meet with his brothers. Amichen made to follow him, but her mother held her back. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Can you ride well?"

"Naissus says I ride well. But I've only been on quiet horses," she admitted.

"It's a start." She looked at Amichen almost as if she was seeing her for the first time. "It's true that you are blooming in a new soil, but even I'm surprised at how much you have changed—and how quickly. I would have never expected you to come on this expedition, much less handle it as well as you have. You never had an aptitude for this sort of thing at home."

"I suppose it matters who my teacher is. And how I'm taught."

"I suppose so."

Amichen left to join Naissus and his brothers, who were all gathered around a campfire. She didn't have to be told that the leather bottle being passed around was not full of water.

She sat down by Naissus just as Renault was taking a swig. He offered the bottle to Naissus, bypassing Amichen, but Naissus didn't immediately accept it.

"Want some?" Naissus asked Amichen, gesturing to the bottle.

"It's spirits," Renault warned.

Amichen took it more because she could than because she really wanted a drink. Laertes and Renault watched with some amazement as she knocked back a big swig. When she was done, she barely coughed. "That's not as bad as the stuff we had before," she said, passing the bottle to Naissus.

He took a taste. "That's because this is good Erenrue whiskey. What Walcott had was vodka—mediocre vodka at that. But he had plenty of it; that's what mattered."

"We only had enough for one night," she reminded him.

"That's because we drank most of it on the way to Shi-Ha," he said with a laugh.

"I don't know a woman other than Wyliss who drinks liquor," Laertes said, taking the proffered bottle from Naissus.

"Noni drinks occasionally, in private," Renault admitted. "She likes something sweet as a nightcap. And Mother drinks," he added, "but she'll do the hard stuff."

Laertes paused, the bottle halfway to his mouth. "Mother? Really?"

"Yes. I've seen her and Father drinking together in the dining room after dinner. She drank him under the table once."

"Erenrue women," Laertes said, half-jokingly, half-longingly. He was the only one of the four brothers who married a Hyrulian girl. Like Laertes, Raina was very quiet and private, so Amichen hadn't gotten to know her as well as some of the more outgoing members of the family.

"Shi-Ha women," Renault amended, smiling at Amichen.

"I never drank before Naissus, so I think the blame comes around to Hyrulian men," Amichen replied.

Laertes nearly spit out his drink. Renault roared with laughter. "Maybe so!"

Laertes wiped the dribbled liquor from his mouth and passed the bottle back to Renault. "Well, regardless, we're doing this for Polonius."

Renault raised the bottle in toast. "To his memory."

"Hear, hear," Renault and Naissus replied.

Amichen looked between them. "You're getting drunk in his memory?" she asked with surprise.

"We're toasting his memory," Renault said with an air of dignity. "It's a completely different thing."

"Entirely," Laertes agreed.

"It's a bit of a tradition to drink to your fellow knight," Naissus explained.

"And tell stories on him," Renault added, before passing the bottle to Amichen again. "Humorous stories, of course, but also great stories of his exploits."

"Oh, he told me a bunch of those on the way here."

"Really?" Laertes asked, looking curious.

Amichen took another swig from the bottle and began retelling the stories Polonius had told her. By the time she couldn't remember any more, her face was feeling flushed. The others, who had started imbibing before her, and who had been taking bigger drinks, were almost literally rolling on the ground with laughter.

"What a character!" Renault said, wiping his eyes as the last of his laughter died away. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Ah, if I could have only known him better."

Naissus drained the last of the bottle, then set it aside. "He gave Amichen his sword before he died."

Laertes and Renault both became instantly serious. "Really?" Laertes asked.

Renault leaned forward, looking at the sword on Amichen's hip. "Is that it?"

"Yes." She unsheathed it and showed it to them in the light of the fire.

None of them offered to touch it or asked to hold it. "All of that and he didn't die with his sword in his hand," Laertes said.

"No, he died giving it to me so I could defend myself."

"Gods, what a specimen," Renault said with reverence. "Has there been his like since Link?"

"If there has been, they've been few and far between," Naissus said.

The alcohol soon got to all of them and they began to yawn. Naissus and Amichen went to their tent to sleep. They hadn't bothered to camouflage it since they were in the middle of an encampment. Amichen also hadn't taken the time to gather leaves for their bedding.

"This isn't going to feel very good tonight," she said, trying to get comfortable on the ground with only one layer of blanket as padding.

"Who said you were going to sleep?" Naissus asked with a wicked grin.

"I thought you were tired?"

"Tired of being around other people." He scooted up closer to her. "I wanted to be alone with my wife," he whispered in her ear, making her giggle.

"So you are," she replied. "Now what do you plan to do?"

"I'll show you."


	29. A Kingdom for a Queen

Amichen and Naissus got up late the next morning. They might have felt embarrassed, but when they joined the others—including Amichen's mother and Prince Gustav—no one took much note of them. Renault passed them each a plate of food for breakfast, then immediately returned to the conversation. The queen of Shi-Ha was making a proposal, illustrating her plan by drawing with a stick in the ashes from the previous night's fire.

"What's going on?" Naissus whispered to Renault as he and Amichen took a seat on a log beside him.

The queen looked up. "I was just pointing out that these woods have long been a problem for all of our kingdoms. This most recent incident is certainly the worst that's ever happened, but traffic to and from Hyrule and Shi-Ha has been harassed off and on for years."

Prince Gustav nodded. "Sometimes the outlaws get really bold and come into our kingdom as well—as we have just seen."

"Yes, and once they've struck, they melt back into the woods" Queen Xiao-Lin continued. "Even if we capture some, we can never be sure we've captured all of them. And more will come as they try to escape justice or debts or even bad marriages. There is always something to run away from, and this seems to be where they come."

"But I don't know that there's anything we can do about it, short of cutting down the entire forest," Naissus said.

Amichen thought her mother's smile looked particularly smug. "I have a plan that would be a little less work, I think, and more effective in the long run."

"What?"

"Turn this into a kingdom."

Amichen and Naissus were both stunned. "A . . . kingdom?" Naissus asked in disbelief.

"Certainly. Why not? Royals and a noble class will keep the peace and people will spread out and settle the land, leaving no space for bandits to hide."

"C-can you do that? Just . . . make a kingdom out of nothing?" Naissus looked between the others. "It's never been done before, has it?"

"Not this way," Laertes said, looking deep in thought. "Kingdoms come about when settled people decide to work collectively. Or when people are conquered and forced into a collective. I don't think, in the history of the world, that a kingdom has ever been planned by a committee, then built and settled by people according to a plan."

"There's a first time for everything," the queen said, almost cheerfully.

"Well, the first problem I foresee is picking a king," Naissus said. "If you can't decide on that, then the project will never get off the ground, and no committee of people from three different kingdoms is ever going to agree on who will get to be the king of a new kingdom. It will throw off the balance of power because whoever is chosen will continue to be loyal to the kingdom of his birth, so it will be as if one kingdom suddenly doubled in size and power."

"Who would have thought that _he_ would be the one most against the idea?" Renault said with a laugh.

"Why shouldn't I be? Why shouldn't everyone be against it?"

The queen looked directly at him. "Because we had already agreed that you and Amichen should have this new kingdom."

Naissus looked completely floored. For that matter, Amichen felt the same way. "Us?" she asked.

"It's the only logical choice."

"But . . . I'm the youngest son," Naissus protested. "I have seven other siblings ahead of me in the succession."

"We're not talking about the succession of Hyrule," Renault pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm still not entitled to anything."

"Amichen is," her mother pointed out. "She's my eldest daughter. By rights, she should be a queen."

Amichen was suddenly reminded of what her mother told her the morning of her wedding: she was destined to be a queen, just not of Shi-Ha. Had that prophesy inspired her to this plan?

"Just because Amichen isn't fit to rule Shi-Ha doesn't mean she can't rule elsewhere," her mother continued.

"You and Amichen _are_ the most obvious choice," Laertes said. "You both represent two different kingdoms, so that creates a bit more balance."

"I think my father would be willing to agree," Prince Gustav said. "You are a cousin by blood and both of you are in-laws by marriage, so I think he wouldn't have a problem with it. Besides, I think after what's happened to both of you, you deserve this."

Everyone else nodded. "It's a chance to make new lives for yourselves where your old ones were taken away," Renault said elegantly.

Naissus looked at Amichen. "I think we just got elected king and queen of an empty wilderness."

"I'll take it."


	30. Destiny

Everyone broke camp later that morning and each group went back a different way than they had come in. Naissus and Amichen, however, traveled back with Renault's unit. They reached the highway three days later and rendezvoused again, but no one—including the pickets—had anything to report. If there were still any bandits in the woods, they were hiding well. All three kingdoms left men behind, though, to guard the borders of the woods to try and keep anyone from slipping back inside. The magicians left their spell up, too, to keep anyone still inside from teleporting out or bringing people in behind the guards' backs.

The Erenruites and contingency from Shi-Ha both teleported home. A few hours' ride found the Hyrulians returned to Castle Town. They were greeted in the streets of the city by crowds of people, all congratulating them and rejoicing at their safe return.

At the steps of the castle, they were greeted by the king and queen and all the rest of the family—even Talent, although he had to sit in a chair because the doctor wouldn't allow him to stand too long on his leg. There were a lot of hugs and everyone tried to speak at once.

It wasn't until after dinner that things calmed down enough that the king and queen could meet privately with their sons and Amichen. "Laertes has told me of Queen Xiao-Lin's proposal," the king said as he sat at the council table, sipping a glass of dessert wine. "It's quite ambitious, I must admit."

"But we're not against it," the queen hurried to add.

"No, we're not against it. It's just . . . it will take a lot of logistics."

"I've already been thinking about that," Naissus said. "For a starter, where will the money come from? Kingdoms need infrastructure—roads and wells and things like that. Amichen and I will need a place to live and a means of supporting ourselves until enough people move in that tax revenues will cover our operating expenses. And where will the people come from? Why would they want to move there? Yes, it's pretty as far as a hunting preserve goes, but how will people make a living?"

"Logging," Laertes said. "There are some very old trees there—much larger than anything left in most of the rest of the kingdoms."

"Big trees will only last so long," Naissus pointed out. "And the price of logs—even large ones—won't be very high; Hyrule and Shi-Ha don't really lack for timber. Erenrue would be our only real customer."

"Any place that grows trees so well must be good for orchards," the queen said.

"That may be true," Naissus conceded.

"We were planning on creating a duchy for you anyway," the king pointed out. "This will be the same thing, only a slightly larger scale. Our population has grown to the point that people who want land can't get it without considerable cost. If land is made available cheaply, there will be enough people—young people—who will settle it, even if it means hacking farmland out of the wilderness."

"And that's where your initial money will come from," the queen pointed out. "Sell parcels of land and use that money to start building roads and build a home for yourself."

"I'm sure we can loan you money to help get you started as well," the king offered.

"Certainly," the queen concurred.

"I think the first thing to do is send surveyors out," Talent suggested. "You're going to need accurate maps to do any planning, and while they're out there, they can do a survey of the soil, the rocks, the timber, and any other resources that we haven't found yet."

After a little more discussion, details were drawn up for the hiring of survey teams, which areas each would cover, and how many knights would be dispatched to guard them, just in case there were still bandits lurking in the depths of the woods.

After that, life more or less returned to normal. The surveyors only sent updates back sporadically as the magical barrier was still in place. What they had to report was not terribly exciting. They discovered some groves of a rare tree that was prized for its strength and beauty in fine pieces of furniture. Much of the bedrock under the entire area was limestone, which created mineral-rich soil that the surveyors were sure would be good for orchards and crops, if the woods were cleared away. But other than that, there was nothing surprising or unexpected.

Naissus went back to training daily at the Academy. Amichen went with him most mornings to have her own training. She improved very slowly—Naissus made much better progress with his right arm—but she enjoyed it in a way that she had never enjoyed learning swordplay as a child. As soon as she was tired—which, admittedly, didn't take very long—she would return to the castle and secret herself in the library. Naissus usually stayed and practiced some more and socialized. More than once, he was asked to show off his animal form, to the awe and delight of the students.

Naissus came home early one afternoon about a month after the surveyors went out. He washed up and changed his clothes, then went to find Amichen.

"There you are," he said, finding her in the library. She was seated at the big table, books and a lot of papers scattered around her. She was busy writing something.

"Mm-hmm," she said, not looking up from what she was doing.

"I think you spend more time in here than with me," he said, flopping into the chair next to her.

"Mm-hmm."

"You're not paying attention to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"Mm-hmm."

He laughed.

She finished what she was writing, then looked up at him with a smile. "You're as bad as a cat—walking into a room and instantly wanting attention."

"Maybe I'll paw at you if you don't pay attention to me," he said with a grin, reaching out to touch a stray tendril of her hair. He tucked it behind her ear.

"How was practice?" she asked, looking back at her papers.

"Pretty good. I actually managed to win a couple of bouts. And I don't even think Sir Ulmar was holding back, like he usually does. Although," he admitted, "I lost more than I won."

"It's a start," she said, already sounding distracted.

He leaned in, looking at her papers. There was some writing, but quite a bit of drawing, too. "What are you working on?"

"Plans."

"Plans for what?"

"What do you want?" She pulled out a stack of parchments and handed them to him; he immediately recognized them as architectural drawings. "I have a castle," she said, indicating the drawings. Then she reached over for a big map and put it in front of him. "I have land divisions, she said, pointing to the colored portions on the map that divided the land into dukedoms, countries, and baronies. "I have plans for towns," she said, handing him another stack of architectural drawings that showed different-sized towns and small cities laid out on a grid system next to a stream or small lake. "And," she added, pulling close a pile of papers containing mathematical figures, "as the surveyors send back maps, I've been dividing them into land allotments and calculating how much we can reasonably expect to sell them for, and thus how much money we can raise. I've been working under the assumption that most people won't be able to pay the entire amount all at once, but will be able to pay about half, with the remainder spread out in equal payments over five or ten years, depending on the size of the piece of land. We're not talking about the richest people moving here, after all," she pointed out. "These will be younger sons and daughters who won't inherit family land, so they won't have a lot to start out with."

She looked at a different sheet. "I think we can make enough off land sales that we can afford to build the cities that we want ourselves. If others develop organically, that's fine, but we'll want a few in strategic places, near resources and on the trade route between us and Hyrule and Shi-Ha. In fact, I think our largest or second-largest city ought to be right on the highway; that will be of paramount importance. But I want our capital on the cliffs. I really liked watching the storm blow in over the ocean; I think that's the most beautiful spot in the entire area and I want our castle to overlook the ocean.

"If we can manage to build a good portion of the cities ourselves, then we can own the buildings and rent them out to the merchants and craftsmen and that will be a permanent source of revenue that will be ours; taxes can pay for the roads and schools and such. Also, I want our nobility to be related to us, as yours is here in Hyrule, so we will save the duchies and most or even all of the counties and baronies to give to our children and grandchildren. Until they come along, though, we'll collect the rents and taxes that would be due to them, plus what we're due as king and queen; that will give us a boost of income to start."

She picked up a book from one of the stacks that surrounded her like an embrasure. "I've been studying how Link and Zelda set up schools in Hyrule and I definitely want to do that in our kingdom; I really like the idea of universal primary education. But I want to incorporate civil service exams, like we have in Shi-Ha. I think it's better to give out jobs based on merit, rather than political connections—at least at the lower levels. We'll probably want to appoint our advisors to make sure we keep the right balance at court."

She pulled a parchment out of the stack of architectural drawings; it was the exterior elevation of a castle from multiple viewpoints. "I've also been studying Erenrue. I like their castle best of all, so I decided to copy their architecture, but I scaled it down considerably. We'll just be a small kingdom and won't have the riches of their precious metal and gem mines. Besides, I think there's something cute about a rather small castle. It's beautiful rather than impressive, and I think that will look good against the backdrop of the ocean. In fact, that's part of the reason why I chose Erenrue's castle: it was made to have the mountain as its backdrop."

She looked at Naisuss, who was staring at her in wide-eyed shock. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I think you make much better use of your time than I do." He looked at her reams of work. "How did you get all of this done?"

"It's the only thing on my mind. Even when I'm not in here, I'm thinking about it." She smiled a little. "I've always been focused."

"No joke!"

She chuckled. "Well, what do you think about it? Really?"

"I think I'm going to stay out of your way. You might plow me under if I get in the way."

"Seriously—this is for both of us. I want you to contribute, too."

"Ami, I'm still trying to get used to the idea that I might one day be king of my own kingdom. I am so far behind you, I don't know how much help I can be." He looked over her papers again. "But I have to say, this is . . . beyond impressive."

She beamed.

"All we lack is a name and a move-in date," he teased.

"Meridor, and seven months from now."

He was stunned all over again. "Meridor?"

"I dreamed it up one morning—literally. I was lying in bed, half-asleep, and it just struck me. I thought it was fitting for what will be the southernmost kingdom."

"Alright. But why do you want move in seven months from now? The survey isn't even complete; there's no way we could have a castle even started by then, much less completed. I'm not even sure if we could get a modest house built that quickly."

"Because it's only right and fitting that our heir be born in our kingdom."

"We'll have time enough for that."

"No, we have seven months. Well, technically, it's closer to eight, but I want to be there a little ahead of time. Don't want to cut it close, you know."

Naissus felt himself go weak all over. He was glad he was sitting down, or he probably would have fallen to the floor. "Are . . . are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yes." She smiled at him. "I'm pretty sure we conceived our child in Meridor, so that's why I think he or she needs to be born there."

"A baby? Really?" Naissus asked, still hung up on her announcement of pregnancy.

"Yes, a baby. Your baby and mine."

"How do you know? I mean . . . it seems soon."

"There's a reason why I'm up before you every morning."

"Sick?" he asked.

She nodded. "And . . . I feel different. I can't explain it, but I feel different somehow. Your mother said she knew she was pregnant even before she missed her cycle every single time—said her cravings for caviar were always a dead-giveaway."

Naissus suddenly burst out laughing.

"What's funny?" she asked.

"It all makes sense now."

"What does?" she asked, looking more confused.

"This," he said, waving his hand at the stacks of books and parchment. "You're nesting!"

Amichen started laughing, too. "Maybe you're right!"

"You know, most women only nest in their house; I've never heard of anyone nesting in an entire kingdom."

"True, but maybe that's only because most women don't have a kingdom of their very own."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but do you have a name picked out yet, or were you going to consult me at all?" He had his answer when the flush hit her cheeks. "What have you picked?" he asked with a laugh.

"I don't have a girl's name picked out, but I knew what we should name a boy immediately."

"What?"

"Rodger."

Naissus sobered. Then he slowly nodded.

"I did plan on asking you about girls' names," she said, "but I expected you would think the same as me with the boy's name."

"Yes." Then he smiled. "Thank you for wanting to honor him."

"He was my friend too, even if I didn't know him for very long."

Naissus leaned forward and took Amichen's hand in his. "Are you happy about this, really?" he asked her seriously.

"The kingdom, the baby, or both?"

"The baby was what I was thinking about, but the kingdom part, too."

She nodded.

"Are you really sure? I want you to be happy."

Amichen smiled at him. Her smile was so warm and radiant, he knew she was happy before she even said anything. "Naissus, I am happier than I have ever been in my life. I am finally where—and who—I'm supposed to be."


	31. Epilogue

All summer and fall, Amichen sketched plans, talked to architects and surveyors, organized construction crews, and occasionally toured the area herself. Naissus just stepped back and let her work. He had been given a well-rounded education, but his studies had been concentrated in the arts of war and survival. Amichen, however, had been tutored in government and statescraft from a very early age—up until just a few years before, when her mother named Tiger-Lin as her successor instead. But even then, Amichen had hoped to find a place in her sister's court as an advisor, so she continued her studies in the hopes of being able to pass the hardest of the civil servant exams—those necessary to be a Counselor at court.

So Amichen was wholly fitted for the task, even if she was having to start from the ground up.

They had not even broken ground on their castle when Amichen's due date drew near. Undaunted, she insisted on giving birth inside Meridor and no amount of pleading or demanding by Naissus would sway her. Eventually he capitulated and he took his heavily-pregnant wife down newly-cut roads—still unpaved or improved in any way—all the way to the coast where she had decided their capital would be. Unlike their other expeditions, though, they didn't lack for servants and a large tent was quickly erected and furnished with almost every comfort they could have wanted in their room back in Hyrule. A midwife, too, was in constant attendance. But Amichen didn't go into confinement and spend her days resting; she was out and about every day, meeting with some architect or construction foreman, directing the building of the city. Only rain and cold weather kept her inside, but even that didn't stop her the day the first shipment of Erenrue marble for their castle came creaking up the rough road in a light drizzle.

When her labor pains finally came, Naissus was summarily dismissed while his mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law all came to help Amichen through her labor. Even the queen of Shi-Ha came to witness the birth of her first grandchild.

When, at last, Amichen delivered a boy, he not only was recorded as the first prince of Meridor, but also the only royal child ever known to have been born in a tent.

Amichen and Naissus were living in one wing of the still-unfinished castle when she bore her second child, a daughter. Their third child, another son, was, however, born in the fully-completed castle. It was a short time afterward that the last of the planned construction in the kingdom was finally finished and Amichen and Naissus threw a week-long festival to celebrate the founding of their kingdom, culminating with their official coronation.

All told, Amichen and Naissus had six children—five boys and one girl. During her last delivery, Amichen began to hemorrhage and she nearly bled to death. She hovered on death's door for the better part of a week before she finally turned the corner, but it would be nearly a month before she could finally get out of bed. The doctor feared the bleeding had been caused by some permanent injury she had suffered during her attack, and he cautioned her to have no more children, for fear the next one would be fatal. So, although they had hoped to have a large family, Amichen and Naissus stopped at six children.

All five of their sons bore the names of their lost friends. As the boys grew older, Naissus began to remark that they reminded him of his cousins, both in looks and in personality. Later, as teens, they shocked some of their Hyrulian cousins when they visited for a wedding; their resemblance to Rodger, Walcott, Arlen, Bodi, and Seymour was so uncanny, Walcott's mother wept when she saw his namesake. It was generally agreed throughout Hyrule that the princes of Meridor were the reincarnations of the young men who had lost their lives there many years before.

Over time, Naissus regained some movement in his left arm, although it remained weak. He did, however, succeed in training himself to be right-handed and he eventually declared he was as good a swordsman with his right hand as he had ever been with his left. He established a military school and trained all of the kingdom's knights as he had been trained in Hyrule.

Everything else that Amichen had wanted—universal education, a peaceful court, and so forth—was obtained. Meridor's chief export became fruit; as Queen Maris had said, a place which grew so many trees was indeed good for fruit trees as well. Farms stayed small, but bountiful, and orchards produced all the fruit anyone could want. Southerly winds meant that the temperature stayed warm enough a few miles in from the coast to produce citrus fruits, and Meridor quickly eclipsed Kakariko County in Hyrule as a citrus producer.

Four more bandits were caught over the years as they spent their marked coinage—one in Meridor itself. It was never ascertained if all the bandits had been caught, and barely more than half the money surrendered by Erenrue was recovered. Over the years, tales grew of a hoard of gold buried somewhere by the bandits. Everyone knew someone who had heard a believable tale from someone they knew and treasure hunters dug empty holes all over all four kingdoms—but especially in Meridor. None of the royals understood people's obsession with the lost gold because it clearly belonged to Erenrue and everyone was in agreement that if it was found, it would be returned. But as far as they were aware, the knowledge of the tell-tale reverse sides was still a secret known by few people outside the royal families, so if anyone did find the cache and tried to spend it, they would be caught. And gods help them if they were assumed to be outlaws rather than treasure hunters who had gotten lucky.

Not long after Amichen gave birth to her final child, her mother became ill. At first it was just a persistent cough that resisted all attempts at a cure. Then she lost her appetite. Much and more was done, but eventually all the court doctors admitted they didn't know the source of her wasting illness.

Amichen traveled to Shi-Ha to be with her mother as the illness quickly withered the once robust and commanding Tiger Queen. Amichen performed all the duties expected of the eldest child in Shi-Ha, personally feeding her mother and giving her medicine and bathing her shrinking body. Although the two women were too different to ever understand each other completely, they managed to bridge gaps that had existed for as long as Amichen could remember and met each other halfway.

Amichen stayed after her mother's funeral for Tiger-Lin's coronation. Although their mother had stated that she intended for Tiger-Lin to follow her, the law still gave Amichen precedence. So, to make the succession fully legal, Amichen had to crown her younger sister on the tiger throne that was hers by right of birth. And more than a few who knelt in the hall for the new queen wondered if they would have been better off with the calm, scholarly daughter than the younger one who looked across her new court as a tiger would look over a field of rabbits.

But Amichen had no desire to take the crown, even if it hadn't been against her mother's wishes; she had made the kingdom she wanted with all that was best of Shi-Ha and Hyrule, with a little of Erenrue thrown in as well. Shi-Ha felt like clothing from her youth that no longer fit—not that it had ever fit very well.

Amichen left as soon as was diplomatic. No one noticed that she left with one more guard than she came with—although the Captain of the Guard later wondered why he was a man short. Upon her return to Meridor, Amichen introduced the man as one of her late mother's retainers and she gave him a nice suite of apartments in the same wing as the rest of the important people at court. He was occasionally seen walking with the queen, alone, but he was more often seen with the children.

Some thought that he was a private secretary or some sort of unofficial ambassador or maybe even a spy master working on behalf of Meridor because Queen Amichen didn't fully trust her sister. But others dismissed the idea and argued that the man was a tutor who had been brought in to teach the children the customs and history of Shi-Ha; they did, after all, call him "Honored Grandfather," which was a customary title in Shi-Ha for tutors and men of a certain age. Still others thought that he must have been Amichen's tutor or advisor from childhood and she had offered him a quiet retirement in Meridor in gratitude—or perhaps because he was no longer welcome at her sister's court.

But despite the speculation, no one ever asked the queen outright why the man was at court or what he did to merit comfortable accommodations and access to the royal children, and she never publicly said.

Tiger-Lin married the eldest son of the most powerful nobleman in Shi-Ha—despite Amichen warning her that it was not prudent to concentrate that much power in one family. But Tiger-Lin was infatuated with the handsome young man and she was convinced that she could control his family. Instead, she got nearly-constant feuds and petty wars as her father-in-law fought his enemies and fought for more power. Although her husband didn't try to rule over her, he did try to improve his family's lot or get revenge on their enemies, and he was sullen for months at a time when Tiger-Lin put her foot down and rebuked him or his family.

What's more, he failed to provide Tiger-Lin with a child and their marriage eventually became so strained, he left (or she ordered him to leave; the tales varied) to stay with his family and he was rarely seen in court afterward. It was rumored that the queen took a succession of lovers to her bed, but no children were ever forthcoming.

And then, nearly two decades after her fateful decision, Tiger-Lin was killed in an ambush as she rode to her father-in-law's castle to reprimand him for his latest transgression. All of her host was killed and there were no witnesses to say who had murdered the queen—her husband, her father-in-law, or some enemy of both parties.

The country was in utter chaos when Amichen rode in with Naissus at the head of the Meridorian army. Unable to trust anyone in Shi-Ha, she used Naissus and the other knights of Meridor to hunt down the former Prince Consort, his father, and the leaders of several other factions who had been at war with the House of the Red Mesas.

To everyone's great surprise, she ordered her former brother-in-law and his father executed for treason to kingdom and queen. The other men she imprisoned, holding them hostage for their families' good behavior. One of them had to be executed before everyone got the message that Amichen was not to be trifled with.

But, once the political climate had stabilized, rather than taking the crown for herself, Amichen once again crowned another in her stead—this time her daughter, Anne-Marie. Tiger-Lin's name in the annals of Shi-Ha became a mere footnote—a one-off aberration—while the tradition of the eldest daughter of the eldest daughter continued unabated. Amichen's name was an aberration in its own right, though, because she was written into the list of royals twice—both times as "Amichen the Uncrowned."

Amichen aged more quickly than her Hylian family and she passed away at 102 years old. She was buried in a crypt under the castle she had built, which Naissus often visited. As he had promised her when they were first wed, he never loved another. He ruled alone until his own death nearly 100 years later. Prince Rodger had his father buried beside his mother in the lifelike sarcophagus they had made in imitation of Link and Zelda's. And so it was that the first king and queen of Meridor passed into legend and a new generation, who had never known life outside their kingdom, took up the reins of governance and shepherded the young kingdom into its adolescence.

* * *

Author's Note: Need more? Check out my newest story, "The Legend of Zelda: The Triforce of Power," which is the sequel to my original "The Legend of Zelda: The Circle of Destiny." It's the same world with both new and familiar characters.


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